


Permanent

by onlyastoryteller



Series: Permanent [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/onlyastoryteller
Summary: Armie is a tattoo artist. Timmy wants his first tattoo. Is it just business, or is this a new beginning for them both?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m out of practice, having been swamped in real life shenanigans for the past few weeks, and I felt like I needed to write something simple to just get back into the swing of things before I could do justice to any ongoing WIPs. 
> 
> I should have known better. Simple isn’t my style. 
> 
> This was a one-shot. It is now two chapters. The second will be up before the weekend is out. 
> 
> Note: I am not a tattoo artist and don’t know a ton about how it works. I do have tattoos (and just got my fourth yesterday, hence the inspiration) and so did the best I could.

Armie was halfway through his smoke and had just found the Sculptor and the Phoenix in the clear night sky when Andrew stuck his head outside. 

“So you're out here,” he said. 

“Where the fuck else would I be?” Armie asked. He flicked some ash into the water-logged ashtray on the weather-worn table beside him. 

“I don’t know. Alicia said she thought you might have gone home, since it was slow. And since you...” Andrew cleared his throat. “Anyway. There’s a walk-in, if you want it?”

Armie ignored the unfinished sentence and nodded. “Yeah, I can take it. She doesn’t want it?”

“It’s your turn, but she’ll be done with the client she’s working on in ten if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Shut up,” Armie said. “I’m feeling _up to it_. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Andrew raised his eyebrows but said nothing more, disappearing back into the building. Armie took his time finishing his cigarette, and then stretched his long legs one at a time before pushing himself up from the battered canvas lounger. He took one last look at the stars and headed inside. 

Faint buzzing of tattoo machines and low voices in conversation met his ears as he moved through the back hall to the front of the shop. It was like a balm to his nerves, more even than the cigarette had been. Alicia thought he might have gone home? He’d live here and never go home again, if he could. Especially now. 

There was only one person waiting in the reception alcove when he parted the curtains. The guy was sitting on one of the plastic chairs, hunched forward and flipping through a photo book, dark curls hiding his face. Armie watched a moment, noting how the long, slender fingers traced over the artwork on the pages of the album. 

“Hey,” he said, smirking slightly as the kid — and he was a kid, definitely — jumped. His head snapped up and his eyes locked on Armie, widening slightly. 

“Hi...hey,” the kid said. He bounced out of the chair a little too quickly, his knee knocking into the album and sending it to the floor. “Shit, sorry, sorry.” 

“It’s okay, calm down.” Armie swooped down and snagged the album. 

“I’m not...I’m calm.”

“Sure you are. See anything in here you like? Or up there?” Armie gestured at the album and then at the walls of tiny graphics, all ready-made for the walk-ins who frequently came in on a whim and without their own ideas. 

The kid’s eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be turning something over in his head. He had nice eyes, Armie thought, hazel-green with flecks of gold. And a jawline that—

“You think I don’t know what I want,” the kid said. “That I just wandered in here and am more interested in getting _anything_ than in getting something specific.”

“I don’t think anything.” He did, of course he did. The kid had that look about him that screamed _I’m getting a tattoo to show someone I’m not what they think_ and that usually meant a spur-of-the-moment decision. “Do you? Know what you want?” asked Armie. 

“Yeah, I do,” said the kid. “I know exactly what I want.”

Armie smiled. “Good.” He tossed the album on the table and stuck out his hand. “I’m Armie, and with any luck I can give it to you.”

“I’m Timmy.” The kid’s hand was cold in his, but then he smiled and Armie forgot all about that, finding himself momentarily dazzled. 

“You got I.D., Timmy?” Armie asked, when he found his voice again. He was sorry to see the smile disappear and sorrier when Timmy snatched his hand back. 

“Yeah,” Timmy said, defensively. “Why?”

Armie shrugged. “It’s illegal to tattoo a minor,” he said. 

“I’m not a minor. I’m old enough.”

“Okay. How old are you?” Armie turned and held back the curtain, gesturing for Timmy to follow. 

“I’m...eighteen,” Timmy said, his chin jutting out defiantly.

Armie looked him over as they moved down the hall to his space. He did look young, with his oversized hoodie, gangly limbs and that angelic face, but he could also easily be eighteen. Looks, Armie knew from considerable experience, could be deceiving. 

“I believe you. I still need I.D. For our records.” Armie led the way into a small room. 

Timmy produced a Texas drivers license and handed it over. Armie tilted it back and forth and examined it closely. _Real_. He noted the birthdate and chuckled. 

“You just had a birthday,” he commented. 

“So?”

“So...happy birthday. But also, don’t give me shit for questioning your age when you’ve only been old enough for three days.” 

One side of Timmy’s mouth quirked up. “Okay. Sorry. I’m just...people always think I’m younger than I am and I guess I get...defensive.” He shoved some curls off his forehead and shrugged. 

“Have a seat.” Armie pointed to the cushioned table in the center of the room. 

Timmy shifted from one foot to the other for a moment before sitting on the edge of the table. Armie took in the kid’s jiggling foot and darting eyes. He was nervous. 

With a sigh, Armie reached for a clipboard and a pen and held it out. “Read this, fill out the information, and sign the release. I’ll be right back, I just need to make a copy of your I.D. _Read_ it, okay? Don’t just sign it.”

At Timmy’s nod of understanding, Armie left the room. He ran into Alicia on his way to the copier. She tilted her head to the left and smiled gently. 

“How you holding up?” she asked. 

He rolled his eyes and pushed past her. “For the seventeenth time, I’m _fine_.”

“Great, just checking.” She followed him into the back office and hovered in the door as he fumbled with the copier. “Zazie and I were saying we’d like to have you over this week. For dinner. If you want.”

“Sure,” he said. “When?”

“Whenever,” she said. “More than once, if you’d like.”

He jabbed the copy button and shot her a look. “I am capable of feeding myself, you know.”

“I know you are. But we always make too much food so I thought I’d offer.”

The paper was still warm when he pulled it out of the tray. He palmed the license and turned to face Alicia. 

“Look, I appreciate your concern. And I’d love to have dinner with you guys. But can you just—“

“Yeah, okay. I’m backing off. This is me, backing off. See?” She raised her hands, palms out, and actually backed up, clearing the door so he could exit. 

“Thank you,” he said. He gave her a smile, and then, because he knew she was only trying to help, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a skittish client.”

“Uh-oh,” she said. “Make sure he—“

“I will,” Armie said. 

He left her standing there and returned to his room. Timmy was sitting on the table, biting his lower lip, when Armie entered and closed the door behind him. He held out the clipboard. Armie looked over the form, made sure it was fully completed, and tossed it and the photocopy onto a side table. 

“Great,” he said, handing back the license. “So you’re absolutely sure you want a tattoo, right?”

“Yeah. Come on, what are you—“

“It’s just a question,” Armie said. He sank onto his stool with a smile. “I need to ask, in case you regret it and decide to blame me tomorrow for not stopping you tonight.”

“I’m not going to blame you,” Timmy said. “Or regret it.”

“Cool. So, Timmy, what did you have in mind?”

“It’s a quote,” Timmy said. He rubbed his palms on his thighs. “ _Cor Cordium._ It means—“

“Heart of hearts,” Armie said. “I’m familiar with it.”

“ _You_ are?” Timmy said, eyes wide. “But you look…” He flapped his hands in Armie’s direction. Armie burst out laughing. 

“Don’t look so shocked,” he said. “I have layers.”

Armie knew how he must have looked to Timmy. He was big, near six and a half feet of solid muscle. His exposed neck, arms, and calves were covered in ink. Not to mention the piercings — ears, eyebrow — and the close-cropped hair. To Timmy, who looked like a naive, artistic dreamer, Armie would come across as hard and maybe a little mean. Not someone who spent his spare time reading nineteenth century poetry. 

“I didn’t mean...I’m sorry. That was rude.” Timmy flushed bright red, and Armie took pity on him.

“You’re fine,” he said. He pulled down the neck of his t-shirt, revealing a scrawl of black script on his collarbone. “Look.”

Timmy leaned forward, and his mouth formed an _oh_ as he read the tattoo. “You have it too? _Cor Cordium_?”

Armie nodded. “It’s a good choice. Where do you want it?”

“I was thinking...on my leg? Like...here?” He leaned down and ran his fingers up the outside of his left calf, which was encased in a pair of black skinny jeans. 

“We can do that,” Armie said. “What kind of lettering?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought — what is yours in?”

Armie pulled his collar down again so Timmy could look at the thick, curly script.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay. Give me a minute.” Armie grabbed his iPad off of the side table and pulled up his design program. He found the font he had chosen for himself and typed out the phrase. “What do you think?” he asked, swiveling the screen around to Timmy could see. 

The kid squinted at it and then grinned. “Yes. Exactly.”

“You want anything else with it? Designs or framing or anything?”

Timmy hesitated. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Just the words. Do you know...how much is this going to cost?” Armie considered a moment, and then named a price. Timmy nodded, looking relieved. “Yeah, that’s okay.” 

“How big?” Armie pointed to Timmy’s leg. “Can you show me about the size you were thinking?”

Timmy bracketed his hands on his calf, and Armie noted the measurement. 

“You got it.” Armie resized the image and sent it to his printer. As he waited for the transfer sheet to print, he eyed Timmy’s pants. “Can you roll up your pant leg, or are they too tight?”

Timmy glanced down, and then paled. “Oh, shit. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Not a problem, you can just take them off,” Armie said. If possible, Timmy paled even further. “I’m the only one here. Door’s closed. Or…” Armie considered the kid and changed direction. “...if that’s what makes you uncomfortable, I can open it.”

“No. I’m not...I can take them off. Now?”

Armie nodded. “If you’re ready to get started.”

Timmy hesitated only a second, and then hopped off the table. Armie turned away as he shimmied his way out of the jeans, giving him a moment of privacy and focusing on setting up his equipment. 

When he saw Timmy slide onto the table in his peripheral vision, he swiveled back around. He took in the way Timmy was holding himself rigidly, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles, and chose his approach carefully.

“Have you ever seen anyone tattooed before?” he asked. “Or know anyone with ink?”

Timmy shook his head. “No to the first, and not really. I mean...yes, I know people who have tattoos, but I’ve never talked to them about it.”

“So here’s how it works,” Armie said. “I have this tool here, and it basically pushes the ink into your skin with tiny needles that move really fast. It’s going to feel like someone is scratching at your skin, and will be irritating but shouldn’t be painful. You might feel some stinging, especially as I work on the thicker lines, but if you’re really in pain you need to tell me. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Timmy swallowed nervously.

“Go ahead and lie back,” Armie said. “Slide up the table — that’s good.” He picked up a pillow and slid it under Timmy’s head. “It will probably be most comfortable for you if you lie on your side, facing me.” When Timmy had rolled to the side, Armie reached toward him. “I’m just going to adjust your legs, okay?”

At Timmy’s nod, Armie gently pushed his right leg back and pulled his left leg closer, bending his knee slightly. Timmy’s skin was cool to the touch. Totally unblemished, a perfect canvas. Armie’s fingers itched to paint it.

“So the first thing I need to do is shave the area, but let’s make sure we get the placement right.” He took the transfer sheet from the printer and held it over the spot on Timmy’s calf that the kid had indicated earlier. “How’s that look?”

“Good. I think...maybe an inch up?” Armie moved the sheet up, and Timmy nodded. “Yes. There.”

Armie set the sheet aside and donned his gloves, then smoothed some cream on Timmy’s leg. He ran the razor along the calf, clearing the area. When he was done, he rinsed it with antibacterial sanitizer and smoothed his palm over it. Immediately, goosebumps sprang up. He chuckled, but when he glanced up at Timmy, he saw wide eyes and flared nostrils.

“Hey.” Armie scooted towards Timmy’s head and snapped off his gloves, tossing them aside. He laid a hand on Timmy’s shoulder, leaned in. “You doing okay?”

Timmy hesitated, and then nodded, blinking at him.

“You know, you don’t have to go through with this tonight. You can go home, think about it, come back when you’re ready.”

“No,” said Timmy. “No, I want to. I can handle it.”

Armie squeezed Timmy’s shoulder. “I’m sure you can handle it. But if you decided to wait, or just that it’s not what you want, no one’s going to judge you.”

Timmy licked his lips. “I want the tattoo. I just...I’m a little nervous around needles.”

“Lots of people are. I promise this’ll be a piece of cake,” Armie said. “And if at any point you need to take a break just tell me.”

“You must think I’m a complete wimp,” Timmy muttered. “Shit, you have like a hundred tattoos and here I am freaking out about one.”

“I don’t think that at all,” Armie said. He stroked his hand down Timmy’s arm to his elbow, and back up, and Timmy relaxed under his touch. “It’s your first. Everyone is nervous about their first.”

“Even you?”

“Even me. I was terrified. Pretended to be a totally cool tough guy but then fainted before the guy started.”

Timmy laughed. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god. And I was in a chair, not lying down, so I keeled right over and into the tattoo artist’s lap. He was less than pleased with me.” Armie shook his head and smiled ruefully at the memory. “I was only out for a second. I’m not sure he knew I had actually fainted all the way, just tipped me back upright, watched me blink for a second, asked if I was okay, and then got to work.”

Timmy laughed harder, eventually wiping at his eyes and taking a deep breath. Armie waited until he had blown it out slowly. He seemed steadier, so Armie swiveled around to set up the machine and the ink. 

“What made you decide to get a tattoo?” He wanted to keep the kid talking so his mind didn’t spiral into anxiety again. 

“What do you mean?” Timmy asked. 

“Well, some people see their body as a place to put art, like a mode of expression. Their pieces might mean something or might just be an aesthetic they like. Other people get tattoos to commemorate something, or to mark an occasion, to physically mark an emotional or metaphorical shift. Just wondering what made you walk in here tonight.” Armie swiveled back around, saw Timmy watching him. 

“Do yours mean something?” Timmy asked. 

“My tattoos? Most of them, yeah.”

“Like what?”

Armie rolled closer and held his right arm out. “Pick one, and I’ll tell you.”

Timmy leaned forward, and then reached out. He paused with his hand an inch from Armie’s forearm, raising his eyebrows in question. Armie nodded, and Timmy’s cool fingers skated across his skin, tracing lines and brushing colors. 

“This one,” Timmy said, tapping on a scrawny-looking red bird, head drooping and feathers pooling round him. “What’s that?”

“He’s a phoenix,” Armie said. “At one of the stages of his cycle. Here, he’s at an end that’s also a beginning, because his next step will be rebirth.” Armie lifted his left arm and pointed to a large swath of flame on his inner bicep. “There’s the rebirth. I’ve got the full Phoenix in his glory on my back. It reminds me that everything is a cycle, and that when things are ending, I should look around for what’s beginning.”

Timmy hummed and traced the flames to where they disappeared under Armie’s sleeve. Then he took Armie’s wrist and turned it over. He tapped the Cyrillic characters on Armie’s wrist. 

“What does this say?” he asked. 

“Hammer,” Armie said. “It’s my last name. I’m part Russian, so…” he smiled, remembering. “That was actually my first tattoo.”

“The one where you fainted? When did you get it?” 

“I was sixteen. Yeah, I know,” Armie said, rolling his eyes at Timmy’s accusatory look. “I was a punk kid who wanted to rebel against my dad, so I got my own last name. I think I thought it was a way of showing him that I was still proud of who I was even if I didn’t want to be the things he wanted me to be.”

“That’s...cool.” Timmy smiled. 

“So what about you?” Armie asked. “What made you say, ‘tonight I’m going to permanently mark up my body.’”

Timmy shrugged. “I guess it’s sort of like you with the phoenix. I want to be sure to remember something.” His words were imprecise, but his tone was firm, full of conviction. 

Armie could tell there was more to it, but Timmy obviously didn’t want to get into details, so he didn’t press. Instead, he pulled a new pair of gloves on and rolled his stool back down to Timmy’s calf. 

“I think we’re about ready to begin,” he said. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Timmy did look ready. Nervous, but ready. 

Armie swiped the skin with more sanitizer, and then laid the transfer on. He peeled it off, leaving the ink behind. 

“Look okay?” he asked. 

Timmy propped himself up on his elbow and peered down at his leg. Then a grin spread across his face. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s perfect.”

When he settled back on his side, he seemed even calmer, and Armie smiled in return. 

“Good. Then...here we go. You’ll feel my hand first, and then the machine.”

He placed his hand gently on Timmy’s calf. Timmy jumped slightly, and then relaxed. Armie pressed down firmly and then brought up the machine and got to work.

After completing the first letter, he lifted his head to check in with Timmy. The kid had his eyes closed and his fists clenched, but was breathing steadily and slowly. Time for a little more distraction, he thought. 

“So, Timmy, you still in high school or are you in college?” He kept his voice gentle, so as not to startle. 

“College,” Timmy said, opening his eyes. 

“Where do you go?”

“I’m at UT. Why?” Timmy tilted his head so he could look down at Armie but still rest on the pillow. 

“Just making conversation,” Armie said. He set to work again. “You’re in your first year?”

“Yeah. That’s me, an idiot freshman.”

“Well, everyone’s gotta do it at least once, right?” Armie moved from the _O_ to the _R._

“That’s true,” Timmy said. He sighed. “Still, it’s kind of shit.”

“You don’t like college?”

“Not...especially. I thought it was supposed to be this great thing but everyone’s...it’s just not what I thought. It’s dumb anyway.”

“What’s dumb?” Armie asked. He embellished the tail of the _R_ and then lifted the machine to wipe Timmy’s skin. 

“College. It’s kind of stupid.”

“Why do you say that?” Armie glanced up at Timmy with a legitimately curious smile and then began the second _C_. 

“Well, like it’s not really necessary. And it’s so expensive. I’m going to have a shit ton of loans that I’ll never be able to pay back, you know?” Timmy twisted his neck to stare at the ceiling and sighed again. “And I thought it would be this great experience but...it kind of sucks.” 

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time,” Armie said. “What is it you want to go into? For a career?”

“I don’t even know. I mean I don’t have to decide yet, I’m just taking all the gen ed courses now. But I feel like if I knew I could make good use of being there. Since I don’t...I might just be wasting my time.” He looked back down at Armie. “Did you always know you wanted to do this?”

“What, tattooing?” 

Timmy nodded. 

“No. I mean...I liked body art. I was interested in it, and so I started to learn about it and...here I am.” Armie embellished the _D_ and moved on to the _I._

“Did you go to college?”

“Me?” Armie chuckled. “No.”

“How long have you been tattooing?” Timmy asked. 

“Since I was your age,” Armie said. 

“How long ago was that?” Timmy said with exasperation. 

“Six years,” Armie said. 

“So you’re...twenty-four?”

“Yup.” 

Timmy was quiet for a minute. Armie began on the _M,_ and tried not to feel sad that the job was almost done. 

When Timmy spoke again, his voice was soft, hesitant. “Can I ask you a question? That might be too personal?” 

“Shoot.”

“Your _Cor Cordium_...is it about someone?” Timmy asked. 

Armie didn’t respond right away. He focused on completing the final embellishment and then cleaned up Timmy’s skin. He swiveled around and disposed of the ink tube and the needles and his gloves, and then turned to face Timmy again. 

“I’m sorry,” Timmy said. He looked pained. “I didn’t mean to—“

“You didn’t,” Armie said. “I was just thinking how to answer honestly. My _Cor Cordium_ isn’t about anyone in particular. I thought once that…but he...” He glanced away, and then cleared his throat and shrugged. “It’s more of a wish, I guess, than a declaration. A symbol of what could be, rather than what is.”

“Oh,” Timmy said. He waved his hand down at his leg. “Why did you stop?”

Armie laughed. “Because you’re all done.”

“What?” Timmy pushed himself up so he could see his leg. “Shit, that was...nothing. I kept waiting for it to hurt.”

“I told you it wouldn’t,” Armie said. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and ruffled Timmy’s curls. “So, kid, you just got your first tattoo. Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Timmy squinted at it. “It really looks good, doesn’t it? I think it does, but maybe I—“

“It looks great. Suits you,” Armie said. He always said that, but this time he meant it. When Timmy moved to sit up, Armie placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down gently. “Hang on. I gotta wrap you up before you can go.”

He pulled out the surgical adhesive and applied to to Timmy’s skin, giving him the brief lecture on aftercare. 

“I’ll send you an email. Or if you’d rather I not have your email I have some pamphlets—“

“You can have my email,” Timmy said quickly. 

Armie glanced at him and felt a punch to his gut. Timmy was still grinning, but was now grinning at _him_ , and having the full force of that thousand-watt smile trained in his direction was a little much to handle.

He grabbed his phone from the table. “Okay, what’s your email? I’ll send you the directions right now. Check and make sure you get it.”

Timmy spelled out his address, and Armie sent the aftercare message. Timmy reached for his hip and then blushed when he encountered only the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. 

“Oh, right...my pants…” he muttered. 

Armie had been deliberately ignoring the way Tim’s long legs stretched out on the table, disappearing into his snug black boxer briefs. He had tried not to notice Timmy’s perfectly shaped ass, maintaining his clinical gaze during the job. He knew he needed to keep those walls up. It would be unethical to do otherwise. 

But he was only human.

He held out a hand, and Timmy took it immediately. With a quick tug, he helped him sit upright and then stepped back to give him room to hop off of the table. 

“What about your _Cor Cordium_? Is it about anyone in particular? There someone in your life who’s your ‘heart of hearts’?” Armie silently cursed himself for asking. It didn’t matter, he reasoned. He was just continuing to make conversation while the kid got dressed and they took care of payment. 

Timmy was wriggling into his jeans, and Armie turned away from the sight, straightening up his station. 

“There’s no one,” Timmy said. Armie heard a zipper and took that as his cue to turn back around. Timmy shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “Like yours, it’s more of a wish.”

Armie felt like he was locked into Timmy’s eyes, and they stared at each other for a moment. Finally, he took a breath. “It’s a nice wish, and I hope it comes true for you.”

Timmy blinked, and his gaze softened. “Yeah. For you, too.” 

He dug a wallet out of his pocket and handed over a few bills. 

“Thanks,” Armie said. “Let me show you out.”

He opened the door and led Timmy back down the hall towards the front of the shop. It was quiet. They were closed by now, and most of the artists had finished up and gone home. 

“Here we are,” he said, pulling back the curtain to the entryway. 

“So…” Timmy said. He shuffled a foot on the ground. 

“Listen, you have my email. So feel free to reach out if you have any questions. About the tattoo or…” _Don’t say it, don’t say it_ , Armie thought. “Or, you know. Whatever.”

Timmy smiled. “I will. Thanks.” He looked around. “Are you guys closed?”

“Yeah, just now. I’m going to clean up and head out. You were my last ink of the night.”

Timmy’s stomach let out a whine then, and he clamped a hand over it, blushing. “That’s embarrassing,” he muttered. 

“Hungry?” Armie asked. 

“Yeah, I was...too nervous to eat dinner.” He laughed, a little, wheezy gasp. “I can’t believe I was so nervous.”

“You should eat,” Armie said. “There’s a great burger place three doors down, they’re open late.”

“That sounds good,” Timmy said. 

_Shit, don’t you dare do it, you asshole._ Armie scolded himself and warned himself and then gave up. 

“I could show you,” he said. “I’m actually headed there when I leave here. I eat after my shift on nights I work.” 

The way Timmy’s face lit up made all of Armie’s doubts slide away. 

“Okay,” Timmy said. “Should I...I can wait here?”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Armie retreated back to his space. As he cleaned up, filed his paperwork, and recorded Timmy’s tattoo, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Timmy was a treat to look at, sure. And he was intriguing. When they had been talking, Armie had felt a sort of peace settle over him, one he hadn’t felt in a while, if ever. 

And it wasn’t a line. Armie _had_ planned to go to get a burger, the way he always did after working. He had also planned to take his time, hang out with the staff until they closed. Whatever it took to avoid going home until it was time to fall into bed and crash from exhaustion. 

But Timmy was just a kid. Barely eighteen. A freshman in college. In a completely different world than Armie inhabited. Armie shouldn’t be using him as part of his distraction. It wasn’t on Timmy to keep Armie — a complete stranger — from the demons he’d face alone in the dark. 

Armie shrugged into his leather jacket and shook his head in frustration. He was overthinking it. It would be fine. He’d take Timmy over to the Steer and Beer. The kid might not even want to eat there, he might just take his food to go. That was probably going to be the case, Armie figured. So it wouldn’t be an issue. 

Even if he did want to hang out and talk more...well, he got the sense Timmy needed to unload on someone. He could be that person, help the kid out. Maybe it would make Armie feel better, too. 

With the New Year just around the corner, he had been searching far and wide for his new beginning. This probably wasn’t it, but maybe Timmy needed one too, and Armie could help him figure out what it was. It was the least he could do. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up with less time to write this weekend than I thought. There was work, and some pool time with the six year old, and cuddling the new baby, and...well. I promised a chapter two so here it is. 
> 
> I apologize for the short length on this one but you’ll notice I added a chapter so expect one more. 
> 
> Much love. Fiction and stuff.

When Armie returned to the shop entry, Timmy was leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone. He looked up and smiled hesitantly. 

“Still up to go for burgers?” he asked. “I mean, if not, you can just point me in the right direction.”

“I am. Up for it,” Armie said. “Let’s go.”

He unlocked the door and then relocked it behind them, and they set off up the road. 

The night was mild for late December, and only the occasional stiff breeze disturbed the pleasant air. They walked in silence for a minute, hands shoved in their pockets. Every few steps, Timmy’s elbow brushed against Armie’s forearm. The fourth time it happened, Armie wondered if the kid was doing it on purpose.

He was afraid to hope so.

Then Timmy said, “You’re really good.”

“What?” Armie frowned. “Good at what?”

“Your job. I was, like, pretty fucking nervous when I came in, and you just...you were good, is what I’m saying.”

“Thanks,” Armie said. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I am,” Timmy said. “In more ways than one. Thanks for inviting me to get burgers and putting up with me for longer than you need to.”

They lapsed back into silence. Cars whizzed by in the street, and their feet crunched on the crumbling sidewalk. Timmy spoke up again, words tumbling out in a rush.

“Unless...you just meant you’d show me where the place was. Not that you were planning, like...I mean, you don’t have to have dinner with me. I didn’t mean to assume —“ He broke off and smacked his hand on his forehead. “ _Shut up, Timmy,_ shit.” 

“Hey,” Armie laughed and, before he could think the better of it, he slung his arm around Timmy’s shoulders and pulled him close. “It’s okay. I was inviting you to eat with me. If you wanted.”

“Oh. Good.” Timmy relaxed against Armie’s side. Their paces fell in sync, and Armie left his arm around Timmy the last half block to the restaurant. 

When they reached the door, Armie let go and held the door open for Timmy. As they entered, one of the bartenders looked up and waved. 

“Hey Armie,” he said. “The usual?”

“Yeah, but do me a favor and let's skip the lecture about how boring I am, Justin.” He jerked his head towards Timmy. “I’ve got company, and I need to impress him.”

Justin looked Timmy over once in mild surprise and then grinned. “In that case, why don’t you take your pick of our finest booths and I’ll get Felicity to bring you some menus. You can pretend you’re ordering something new and different.”

Armie led Timmy to a booth in the corner. The restaurant wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded, either. At ten o’clock on a weeknight most people were home, or headed there. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on the peg between the booths. Timmy kept his hoodie on but unzipped it, revealing a black tee decorated with stars and planets. 

A petite waitress, her hair pulled into a short, bouncing ponytail, arrived moments later with menus and two beers. She set them on the table.

“Hey, Armie,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“Better, thanks,” he said. He gestured at the beers. “What’s this? We haven’t ordered yet.”

“On the house,” she said. “Justin sent them.”

Armie glanced over at Timmy, who was biting his lip and looking hopeful. He huffed a laugh. The kid was in college, this couldn’t have been the first beer he ever came into contact with. He decided to let it go, but not let Timmy order a second.

“Tell Justin thanks. And that we won’t need a refill. Felicity, this is Timmy. Timmy, this is Felicity. Be nice to her. She puts up with me a couple of nights a week.”

“Only a couple?” Felicity asked, one eyebrow raised. She leaned close to Timmy. “Sometimes he won’t leave and so we make him help us clean up after close.”

Timmy looked like he was unsure whether he was supposed to laugh or not. He looked back and forth between Armie and Felicity.

“You _beg_ me to help you,” Armie said.

“More like you need to help to work off your tab.” Felicity patted Armie on the head. “I’ll leave you boys to your menus. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

She swished away, and Timmy stared after her. When he turned back to Armie, he tilted his head to the side and smiled.

“So,” he said. “You’re trying to impress me?”

Armie studied his menu, even though he knew every word by heart. Timmy kicked his foot under the table.

“Ow,” Armie said, even though it hadn’t hurt.

“Are you trying to impress me?” Timmy asked again.

Armie shrugged and smirked down at the list of side dishes. Maybe he’d mix it up tonight and get slaw instead of extra fries.

When Timmy kicked him again, he looked up and said, “Is it working?”

Timmy laughed, white teeth flashing and eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Armie felt everything inside him light up, and he knew all of his protests and doubts were doomed to be silenced. He hadn’t felt this happy and free in weeks, and he was going to chase that feeling, all the _buts_ be damned.

“No longer sure I’m a surly illiterate?” Armie asked, kicking Timmy back.

“I never thought that,” Timmy said, his jaw dropping.

“Come on,” Armie pressed. “You did, a little, when you first came in. You took one look at my ink and my piercings and were shocked I knew what _Cor Cordium_ meant.”

“Well...I never thought _illiterate_. But maybe surly.” Timmy conceded. “Can you blame me? You did come out to the front of the shop looking like you had just emerged from torturing someone.”

_Yeah, me,_ Armie thought. _I’ve been torturing myself for too long._

“I can live with surly,” Armie said, after a moment. He smiled at Timmy. “Any idea what you want to eat?”

“I haven’t looked yet,” Timmy said, blushing. “Hang on. What’s good?”

“Probably all of it,” Armie said honestly. “I get the Magic Burger usually.”

Timmy searched the menu with his finger and found it, reading the description. “What makes it ‘magic’?” he asked. “The thousand-island dressing or the sauerkraut? Or the cucumbers?”

“The cucumbers, I think. How lettuce ever became the green fixing of choice for sandwiches is beyond me now that I’ve tried a burger with cucumbers.”

“Cucumbers. That’s your daring side? Cucumbers on your burger?” Timmy wiggled his eyebrows. 

Armie felt his cheeks flush, and he reached out and pushed Timmy’s beer closer to him. “You going to drink your illegal beer, or do I get two?”

“Okay, I get it,” Timmy said, picking up the glass. “You’re trying to get me drunk.”

Armie hesitated, studying Timmy. A joke, he decided. Timmy was making a joke. They were flirting. He knew how to do this, used to be good at it.

“If one beer is going to get you drunk, you better let me take that back.” Armie went for it, and Timmy held it out of his reach, grabbing his wrist.

Armie’s eyes fell onto the slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, and then up at Timmy. Their eyes locked. Timmy let go, putting his hand in his lap, but he didn’t look away.

“Theres something here, right?” he asked quietly. “Or am I just imagining things? Wishful thinking?”

This was a moment of decision, Armie realized. Timmy was laying it out there, that he felt a connection between them. Armie could say _yes_ , _there’s something_ , and walk this path. Or he could say, _what something_ and squash it. Let Timmy go back to his life, which would probably be better for him.

He thought about the difference between the way he had been feeling recently and the way he was feeling in the moment. He knew it was selfish but...he wasn’t ready to let go of that. Wasn’t ready to crawl back into his dark hole. He wanted to stay in the light a little longer.

So he smiled and said, “Yeah, Timmy. There’s something here.” Timmy beamed at him, and he laughed, then waved to Felicity. “Come on, figure out what you want to eat. I’m starving.”

Two hours later, Armie’s left leg was stretched out under the table, pressed up against Timmy’s right. Their burgers had long been cleared away, as had their beers, and Timmy was laughing. Armie thought he might pay any amount of money to ensure that he could keep the kid laughing. 

“Okay, so...then what happened?” Timmy asked. 

Armie shrugged. “You know. I dumped the water bottle over his head. Cooled him right down.”

Timmy sighed happily. Armie changed his mind. _That_ was the sound he would pay any amount of money to keep hearing. 

“So,” Timmy said. “I guess it’s getting kind of late.”

Armie straightened up. “Yeah. Right. You probably have somewhere to be?”

“What? No. I just…” Timmy ran a hand through his hair. “I’m free. Home for the break, and other than spending a little quality time with my mom, I’ve got nothing on the schedule.”

“No high school buddies to catch up with? In-town college friends waiting for your call?” Armie pressed.

Timmy frowned and stared down at his lap. “No.” He looked back up, and shrugged. “Not really a people person, I guess. What about you? Have to be up early or something?”

Armie watched him a moment. He sat back in his seat. Was Timmy angling for an invitation back to his place? Could he do that? Or would he be taking advantage of a kid who was obviously lonely? 

He wanted to take Timmy home. Wanted to spend the night touching more than just his calf. Wanted to make him laugh, and sigh, and—

“I’m off tomorrow, actually,” Armie said. “The shop’s closed for New Year’s Eve and I don’t work my other job on Tuesdays.”

“Interesting,” Timmy said. “That we’re both free.”

Armie licked his lips. Timmy was too young for him. Too...unblemished, he thought, remembering the skin he had been privileged to paint on earlier. He had to walk away. 

“Timmy…” he began.

Timmy’s face fell. “Hey,” he said. “No worries. I should probably…thanks for the tattoo.” He pulled out his wallet and threw a bill on the table, then slid out of the booth. “And, you know, for hanging out with me. I had a good time. You’re a good dude, Armie.”

He zipped up his sweater, slipped the hood on his head. His curls escaped around the sides, framing his face. With one last look at Armie, he swiveled on the heel of his boots and strode towards the exit. 

Armie let him get all the way out the door before he uttered an explosive “ _Fuck”_ and launched himself out of the booth. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on as he ran for the entrance. 

He burst onto the street, looked left and then right, and spotted a lone figure, shoulders hunched, trudging back toward the tattoo shop.

“Wait,” he called out. Timmy stopped and turned around. Armie jogged up the sidewalk, coming to a stop in front of Timmy, who was looking up at him, lips parted. 

“Armie?” Timmy asked. 

“Shit,” Armie said, and went in for a kiss. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If it’s too late to go home, you could stay here,” Armie said. “If you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I don’t know what I’m doing here. They are just not cooperating with my best laid plans for a “short” story. So...I added a chapter. There will probably be more. I give up, I’m apparently not in charge of this show. 
> 
> 100% fiction.

The kiss was exactly everything that Armie had hoped it would be, and somehow a number of things he hadn’t even thought to want.

It wasn’t seamless and perfect, the result of practice and study. No, this was definitely a _first kiss_ , with all the where-do-I-put-my-lips and how-much-pressure-will-he-use and shit-we-just-bumped-noses-too-hard and can-I-open-my-mouth-a-little-or-is-that-too-fast. It was enthusiastic rather than seductive. It was also a little too wet, and took a few moments for it to be anything more than just experimental smushing.

But then something clicked, and his lips moved with Timmy’s, and they were both shifting their bodies closer together and winding hands around necks and backs and tilting their heads just so.

Armie broke the kiss first, pulling a few inches away and dragging in a breath. He felt as though he had just run a mile, rather than the twenty paces from the restaurant. Timmy looked up at him, cheeks flushed, lips shiny and slightly parted, eyes unfocused.

“Okay?” Armie asked. He brought his hand up and brushed a thumb across Timmy’s cheek. “Was that all right?”

Timmy opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and then swallowed audibly. He shook his head as if to clear it, curls flying.

“Yeah,” he said, a rasp to his tone. “It was good. Can I — can we do it again?”

The electricity that surged up and swirled around in Armie’s stomach and chest exited his body through his mouth in something that could have been a whimper if he was the kind of person who whimpered. He answered Timmy’s question by lowering his head once more.

This time, when their lips met, there was a memory to it. _I’ve done this before, and liked it,_ his body said, and he opened his mouth slightly. Then Timmy’s tongue was pushing its way past his lips, and he melted into the velvety sensation. Timmy was a decent kisser. Definitely unpracticed, but he made up for it with an earnestness and enthusiasm that had Armie gripping his shoulders tightly to make sure he didn’t vibrate away.

When Armie pulled back again, he huffed out a laugh at the way Timmy swayed forward in pursuit of his lips and had to be caught before he fell.

“Steady,” Armie said. He was feeling a little shaky in the knees himself, truth be told.

“Sorry,” Timmy mumbled, ducking his head. “Jesus. That was…”

“Yeah. It was,” Armie said. He made sure Timmy was standing on his own, and then let his hands fall away, even though they ached to maintain contact.

“So…” Timmy said. He blinked up at Armie and smiled. His front teeth were just slightly crooked, and Armie found himself desperate to run his tongue over them and see how they felt. “Is that why you chased me down the street? Or was there something else you wanted?”

Armie cleared his throat. “I wanted...if you don’t have anywhere to be, we could go back to my place. Watch a movie. Or something.”

He wanted to smack himself in the forehead. He used to be smoother than this, didn’t he? Once upon a time, he knew how to ask a guy to come home with him for a one night stand. He’d done it a bunch of times. Why couldn’t he remember how?

But Timmy was grinning at him. “Yeah. Yes. Okay,” he said, bouncing on his toes. “A movie.”

Armie hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Then let’s go.”

They started down the sidewalk towards the tattoo shop. Armie thought about taking Timmy’s hand, but that seemed like it might be weird. They barely knew each other, and holding hands was something intimate, something you did once you were comfortable in your affection. So he shoved his hands in his pockets instead, noting with satisfaction that Timmy immediately did the same.

“Where do you live?” Timmy asked.

“Not far,” Armie said. “A mile or so, other side of 290.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?” 

“My parents’ place is...uh...west,” Timmy said. “Maybe twenty minutes from downtown. During the semester, I live on campus.”

“Right,” Armie said. That’s right, Timmy was fucking _young_. His parents’ house and his dorm. That was where he lived.

Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. The doubts crept back in. Maybe he should tell Timmy _you know what, I just remembered I have a thing in the morning_. He imagined the look on Timmy’s face — just like the look he had seen in the restaurant — when he realized Armie was backing out. And he imagined _not_ getting a chance to kiss Timmy again, letting him slip right through his fingers like a handful of sand.

He didn’t actually have to make any decisions yet, he reminded himself. They’d go back to his place, maybe have another beer, turn on the television. He still had time to back out, to let his conscience and not his dick guide him.

“Woah,” Timmy said, coming to a halt beside him. “Is this bike _yours_?”

They had reached the parking lot behind the tattoo shop, and Armie had led them to his ride, a used KTM Enduro that he had had since he was twenty. He reached out and ran a hand over the seat.

“Yeah,” he said. “Did you drive here? Is your car—”

“It’s over there,” Timmy said, pointing at the only other car in the lot, a little silver sedan in the back corner. “It’s not actually mine, it’s my mom’s. I just borrowed it for the night.”

“So you want to follow me? Or do you need to get the car home? Or…”

“Can I ride with you?” Timmy asked. “I mean, if the car will be okay here.”

Armie nodded, registering the tiny thrill he felt at the idea of Timmy nestled at his back on the bike.

“The car will be fine,” he said. “No one will be here tomorrow anyway. Will your mom miss it?”

“Nah,” Timmy said. “I basically have permission to just use it when I’m home. She won’t care.”

“Okay. Then…” Armie retrieved the helmets and stuck one on Timmy’s head, smashing his curls down around his face. He grinned at the sight. “Buckle up for safety.”

He donned his own helmet, then slung a leg over the bike.

“Where do I…”

“Climb on behind me,” Armie said. When Timmy had, he pointed to the rear footrests. “Put your feet there, and then...hold on tight.”

Timmy gingerly leaned forward and placed his hands on Armie’s waist. Armie turned his head.

“You can move closer,” he said. “Slide your ass forward and wrap your arms around me.”

With a little explosion of laughter, Timmy moved. Armie felt Timmy’s hips press up against his ass, his chest against Armie’s back, and then Timmy wound his arms around Armie’s waist and squeezed slightly.

“That good?” Timmy asked.

“Perfect,” Armie said, with a grin. He started the engine. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

“Never,” Timmy said.

“Okay. Don’t fight the movement. Just lean with me. Trust the bike — and me —- to not let you fall.”

“Got it,” Timmy said. “Lean with you, trust you. It’s worked out for me so far, tonight.”

Armie laughed. “Hang on.”

He pulled out onto the mostly deserted street. He took a left a few blocks up and chose to ride the back streets home, avoiding the traffic lights and prolonging the ride, enjoying the way the sound of the engine momentarily disturbed the peace of the residential neighborhoods. The bike purred between his legs, and with Timmy draped over his back, a contentment settled over him.

Too soon — and not soon enough — he pulled into his apartment complex, punched in the code, and steered his bike into his designated spot. When he turned the engine off, the not-quite-silence of the night surrounded them. They sat in it for a minute, taking in the soft sounds of their own breathing, the faint buzzing of the streetlamps, a dog barking in the distance.

He waited for Timmy to climb off, then did the same, setting the kickstand. He tucked his helmet away and then helped Timmy off with his, smiling at the way his curls sprang back up and flew around in the breeze. Timmy impatiently brushed them off of his forehead. His eyes were bright, and he grinned.

“That was amazing,” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Armie asked, in a whisper himself.

Timmy shrugged and let out a giggle, and this time Armie did take his hand. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to lead this boy anywhere he would let him. For his part, Timmy didn’t seem to mind. He curled his fingers around Armie’s palm and stepped in close as Armie started across the lot. Their forearms and shoulders brushed together as they walked almost in sync.

Armie’s apartment was on the bottom floor in the back. He brought Timmy past the dent in the concrete, past the garbage bags his neighbor had set out to bring to the dumpster in the morning, past the pile of outdoor equipment the kids in the unit left piled in the corner for communal use. 

As he unlocked his front door, he wondered how Timmy would see his place. After living in the dorm, would a mediocre apartment be impressive or disappointing?

Once inside, he flipped on the lights and scanned the space. He hadn’t been great about cleaning in the past few weeks...or ever, really. The trash needed to be emptied, and there were a handful of dishes in the sink. The carpet could use a vacuuming, and the coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles and a couple of takeout bags. But since he also didn’t own much, the place wasn’t otherwise in bad shape. 

He glanced over at Timmy to see what his reaction was. Instead of looking at the place, Timmy was looking at him. 

“What?” he asked. 

Timmy shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing. Your eyes are really blue.”

Armie blinked, and the muscles in his stomach tightened. He let go of Timmy’s hand and moved into the kitchen. “You want a beer?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Sure,” Timmy said. He crossed to the other side of the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and leaned onto it, propping his head on his hand. 

There were thankfully two beers left, and Armie snagged them with one hand. He grabbed the magnetic bottle opener off of the side of the refrigerator and popped the caps off, then set one of the bottles on the counter in front of Timmy. 

Timmy picked it up and held it out. “To things not going as planned,” he said. 

Armie tapped the neck of his bottle against Timmy’s with a smile, wondering about the odd toast. “What didn’t go as planned?” 

“Just...life. It doesn’t happen the way you think, ever. I came in tonight to get a tattoo and figured by now I’d be home in bed freaking out about it.”

Armie raised an eyebrow at that. “You said you were sure. I asked. A bunch of times.”

“I was sure. But it was a big decision.” He took in Armie’s expression and laughed. “Don’t worry, I don’t regret it. And wouldn’t have blamed you if I did. Do people really do that?”

“You’d be surprised.” Armie jerked his head towards the living room. “Come on, let’s sit down.” He led the way over to the threadbare sofa and eyed the crowded coffee table. 

When Timmy sank onto the sofa, Armie set his bottle down and began to clear away the mess. “Get comfortable,” he said, passing Timmy the remote to the television. “Sorry about all this. I should take out the trash. You good here a minute?”

Timmy nodded and took a drink from his beer. Armie took the armful of items to the trash, removed the bag, and tied it off. He glanced back. Timmy had flipped the television on and was shuffling through the channels. It was a little shocking, seeing someone else sitting on that sofa. Armie shook his head, opened the door and headed out. 

He collected his neighbor’s bags on the way to the dumpster as well. The night air was refreshing, and being away from Timmy gave him a second to think. He realized that being around the kid muddled his brain in a way that was both invigorating and concerning. Invigorating because it was a welcome change from the past few weeks. Concerning because...was he ready for this?

As he tossed the bags up into the bin, he considered his options. He could go back inside, sit next to Timmy, and put on a movie. They could hang, talk. Timmy could crash on the sofa if he needed to, and he could send the kid on his way in the morning. No harm done, to either of them. Armie would go back to his comfortable depression and nothing would change. 

Or...he could let Timmy into his bed. They could kiss some more, but he could keep everything PG. Just enough for Timmy to feel special, but not so much that he would regret anything in the morning.

Armie rolled his eyes at the thought. The idea that he’d be able to have Timmy next to him in bed and _just_ kiss was laughable. 

So then there was the third option. Say _fuck it_ , peel Timmy out of those skinny jeans and that hoodie/t-shirt combination, and give him a night neither of them would soon forget. And then what? Timmy might want more, and Armie wasn’t positive he was capable of anything more, not at the moment. Maybe in a few months, he could give Timmy a call. When he had more to offer. 

He paused outside of his door and sighed, no closer to knowing what he was going to do than he had been standing in the lot of the tattoo shop earlier. 

When he opened the door, he was momentarily surprised to be confronted by a darkened apartment. The lights had been turned off, and only the television sent a flickering glow around the room. Timmy was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching something, but he turned when the door opened and smiled. 

Armie smiled back, he couldn’t help it. He moved to the kitchen sink to rinse off his hands before crossing to the sofa, grabbing his beer, and flopping into the opposite corner. 

“I hope it’s okay I turned the lights off,” Timmy said. “I kind of like it dark when the television is on.”

“It’s fine. What are we watching?” Armie asked. 

“Some cooking competition show,” Timmy said. “Do you cook?”

Armie shrugged. “Sometimes.” He used to. When there was someone to cook for. It wasn’t as much fun to cook for just himself. “You?”

“Sure,” Timmy said. “Pasta. Scrambled eggs. Microwave popcorn.”

“A gourmet chef,” Armie said. He reached out and nudged Timmy’s shoulder. “You should have said, we could have skipped the restaurant.”

Timmy snickered and turned back to the television. Armie drank his beer slowly. He wasn’t looking at the television. Instead, he was watching the way the blueish light fell on Timmy’s face, the way he dragged a hand through his hair every minute or so. He admired the way Timmy’s back rounded as he slouched forward and his neck stretched out when he took a drink, his Adam’s apple rising and falling with each swallow. 

By the time Timmy set his bottle on the coffee table, Armie knew there was really no decision left to make. Maybe there never had been. Resigned, he reached out and tucked a curl behind Timmy’s ear. 

Timmy turned to him and smiled. “Where’s your bathroom?” he asked. Armie pointed to the door, and Timmy bounced to his feet. “Be right back.”

Armie cleared away the beer bottles and returned to the sofa. He rubbed at his face with his hands. So he knew what he wanted, and he knew he didn’t care if it was bad for him. The only thing he needed to make sure of now was that it wouldn’t be bad for Timmy. 

When Timmy emerged from the bathroom, he hesitated only a moment before crossing the room. When he sat down again, he chose the spot right next to Armie, pressing his right hip and leg against Armie’s left. Armie automatically raised his arm and wrapped it around Timmy’s shoulders, and Timmy snuggled against him as if he had been doing just that for years. 

They sat like that for a few minutes. While the chefs on television frantically tried to find a way to incorporate chocolate cake into a taco, Armie focused on the simple _rightness_ of having this lean body molded to his side. Then Timmy turned his head and looked up at Armie. His eyelashes seemed to glow in the light from the television, and Armie felt himself leaning in without consciously having decided to move. He stopped himself just before their lips met. Timmy’s breath skated across his chin and nose. 

“It’s pretty late,” Armie whispered. “Should I call you an Uber?”

“An Uber?” Timmy whispered back. “I actually think it might be _too_ late. To go home.”

“If it’s too late to go home, you could stay here,” Armie said. “If you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The sofa is comfortable. So I’m told.”

Timmy pulled back slightly and frowned. But Armie was smirking, and Timmy caught on quickly, returning a smirk of his own. “I have a condition,” he said. “I’m only allowed to sleep on beds.”

“Hmm, then I guess I can sleep on the sofa.” Armie patted the back of the sofa affectionately.

“Well, my condition requires another person with me if I’m in an unfamiliar bed. I’m afraid I only see one solution.” Timmy shrugged. “We’ll both have to use the bed.” 

Armie sighed exaggeratedly. “If we must…”

Timmy shrugged. “Maybe I can find a way to repay you for your kindness.”

“We’ll have to work that out, for sure.” Armie picked up the remote and flicked off the television, plunging the room into complete darkness. 

Then he reached out, located Timmy’s shirt, and pulled him in. He expected to miss, but he found Timmy’s mouth on the first try. Or, it seemed, they found each other, because Timmy had grabbed Armie’s biceps and was an equal participant in the search. 

Their lips met. Armie slid his hands up Timmy’s chest and bracketed his neck, the tips of his fingers burying themselves in the soft hair at his nape. This time, when their lips parted, Armie pressed forward, seeking entrance to Timmy’s mouth. He slid his tongue along Timmy’s teeth once, just as he had imagined doing, feeling the slightly uneven ridges. 

Timmy moaned softly into his mouth and suddenly Armie’s lap was full of long, trembling limbs. He helped Timmy fit his knees on either side of Armie’s waist, then rested his hands gently on Timmy’s hips. It was important, he thought fleetingly, to let Timmy drive this bus. So he sat back and enjoyed the ride as Timmy took firm control of the kiss. 

The kissing went on for a while, and despite his intentions, Armie found himself sliding his hands up Timmy’s back, under his shirts. Timmy arched in response, pulling away from the kiss. When Armie chased his lips, instead he found that Timmy had tipped his head back, exposing his neck. 

Armie kissed his way up the side of Timmy’s neck, under his chin, and back down the other side, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin. Timmy tasted like cinnamon candy, he thought. Why was he _sweet_?

He realized that Timmy was panting, and he pulled back. 

“Why...why did you stop?” Timmy asked. Armie smiled, remembering when Timmy had asked him the same thing earlier that evening, in a completely different context. 

He ran his palms up Timmy’s arms and back down. “I just need to make sure this is what you want,” he said. 

“It _is._ ” Timmy kissed him again. “I swear.”

“Because you _can_ sleep out here, if you’re not sure. Or I can. Or we can _just_ sleep.” It might kill him to hold off, now that he had gotten a taste, but he could do it. Would do it. 

“I’m sure,” Timmy said. 

“Okay,” Armie said. “You’re really sure? And you’ll tell me if you change your mind, or want to stop?”

“Armie,” Timmy said. Armie couldn’t see him clearly, but he could practically _hear_ the eye roll. “I told you once already tonight, I know what I want.”

With a grunt, Armie lifted Tim off of him and set him on his feet. “In that case,” he said, standing and taking Timmy’s hand once more, “let’s move this show to a more comfortable location.”

Timmy giggled. 

Armie didn’t know precisely what the fallout would be, but in the moment, with Timmy crowding close at his back as they moved through the darkened apartment, he couldn’t quite bring himself to worry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He walked Timmy backwards towards the bed, their legs tangling with each step, knees and ankles and thighs bumping together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it goes on. 
> 
> All of you who have been reading _Isla_ have been so patient about the slow burn and your reward is coming there, but I thought for a change I wouldn’t drag it out with this one. 
> 
> Also, this story isn’t over yet. There’s more of these boys, we’ve only scratched the surface. At least two more chapters to go. 
> 
> 100% fiction and stuff.

Inside the bedroom, the moon shone through the edges of the closed window shades, giving the room a silvery-blue gleam. Armie pulled Timmy in front of him and dove in for another kiss. He shoved his hands up into Timmy’s curls, feeling the silky texture sliding around his fingers, and Timmy let out a small whine. Experimentally, Armie tugged at the curls, and Timmy whined again, shifting against him, his hands latching onto Armie’s hips. 

Armie grinned against Timmy’s mouth. _Fuck_ , this kid was just about _perfect,_ he thought. 

He walked Timmy backwards towards the bed, their legs tangling with each step, knees and ankles and thighs bumping together. Twice Timmy’s hips brushed against Armie’s tantalizingly, just enough to send a quick shock of desire and need coursing through Armie and promising the intensity of what was to come. 

When the backs of Timmy’s legs hit the mattress, he put a hand on Armie’s shoulder and pushed slightly, pulling his mouth free. 

“Wait,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Armie asked. Shit, was Timmy changing his mind?

“Can we turn a light on?” Timmy asked. 

“A light? Sure.” Armie leaned away from Timmy for a moment and flipped on the lamp on the bedside table. “That good?” he asked, when the soft orange glow suddenly illuminated the room. 

Timmy smiled, looking absolutely delighted. He brought his hands up and placed his palms on Armie’s cheeks. Then he brushed his fingertips across Armie’s cheekbones and eyebrows. 

“That’s better,” he murmured. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. I wanted to be able to _see.”_

Armie blushed. He wasn’t a blusher normally, but here he was, cheeks turning pink because of a compliment he hadn’t expected from someone who, really, shouldn’t be calling anyone _else_ pretty. 

“Yeah, okay,” Armie said with a snort. “ _I’m_ the pretty one, with all my ink and being fucking _huge._ Not you, with your skin and those eyes, and this curl here—“ He tugged at a curl that fell across Timmy’s forehead, and was satisfied to see Timmy flushing as well, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. Then he laughed. 

“We can both be pretty,” Timmy said. “That was the first thing I thought, by the way. Not that you were...what did you call it...surly and illiterate. But that you were fucking beautiful.”

Armie stared down at Timmy in wonder. What the hell kind of deal had he made to get this chance with this person? What god had he inadvertently pleased? Even if it was only a one night thing, he’d be forever grateful. 

He nudged Timmy back onto the bed, helping him scoot up to the headboard, and then crawled over him. He dipped his head for another kiss, careful to rest his weight on his elbows and not let it fall entirely on Timmy. 

After a few minutes of lazy exploration of Timmy’s mouth, Armie sat back on his heels. Timmy blinked up at him, his eyes slightly glazed. Armie reached back and tapped Timmy’s left knee, just above where his tattoo would be. 

“How’s your leg feeling?” Armie asked. “Does it hurt at all?”

Timmy frowned, looked down as if he was taking inventory, and then shook his head. “No. It’s sort of...a little sore maybe, when something brushes against it, but mostly I don’t feel anything.”

“When something brushes against it?” Armie said, smirking. “Then maybe we should get these pants off. They are awfully tight.”

Timmy let out a short laugh. “That was totally cheesy,” he said. 

Armie shrugged. “I did want to ask about your tattoo. The rest just came to me.” He rested his hands against the buttons at Timmy’s trim waist. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” Timmy said, his belly rising and falling with shallow breaths. “Do it.”

He made quick work of Timmy’s jeans, peeling them off carefully. Timmy shifted his hips up and shimmied around to help. Armie pulled Timmy’s boots off and tossed them over the side of the bed, then yanked the jeans over his feet and chucked them over as well. 

“How does it look?” Timmy asked. 

Armie gazed down at Timmy, wearing only his boxer briefs on his bottom half, and smiled. “Delicious.”

Timmy giggled. “No, I meant—“

“I know what you meant.” Armie leaned back and lifted Timmy’s leg. He peered at the tattoo, safely protected by the surgical adhesive. “Looks great,” he said. “It’s going to look blurry in the morning, but that’s just because it’s leaking a little under the bandage. We’ll change it out and you’ll be able to see how bad-ass you look.”

“Bad-ass?” 

Armie tilted his head to the left and considered the boy beneath him. “Maybe not yet. But you’ve got it in you. You’ll be back asking me to give you more ink in no time.”

Timmy reached up and tugged at Armie’s waistband. “Now you,” he said. 

With a nod, Armie unbuttoned his fly and kicked out of his own boots and shorts so they were both now only clad in black boxer briefs. 

“Hey, we match,” Timmy said. He sounded pleased, and Armie couldn’t help his grin. 

“I guess we do,” Armie said. He tried to figure out what it was he was feeling. A while ago he had been itching to touch and take and taste anything he could as quickly as possible. Now, he felt suddenly like there was no rush, and this... _easiness_...was warming him from the inside out. It wasn’t a race. They had all the time in the world, 

Or all night, anyway. 

He unzipped Timmy’s hoodie and spread it open. 

“What is all this?” he asked, gently tapping the planets that decorated the t-shirt underneath. 

“It was a gift.” Timmy fluttered his hands over his stomach. “Is it stupid?”

“I like it,” Armie said, shaking his head. “It’s cute.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against each of the planets in turn. “It suits you.”

Timmy surged up and captured Armie’s lips in a kiss, and then struggled to get out of his hoodie. “Take it off,” he said.

Armie was only too happy to follow instructions. He helped Timmy free himself from the hoodie and then slid his hands under the t-shirt, skimming his fingers up Timmy’s stomach and ribs. Timmy arched under his touch and sighed. With a smile, Armie slid the shirt up and began to taste Timmy’s chest and stomach. Timmy let out several shuddering breaths, and then he moaned and his hips jerked up, straining for contact.

“Shirt off too,” Armie murmured. Timmy sat up and Armie dragged the t-shirt over his head. He hummed in satisfaction seeing the expanse of creamy skin before him. 

Timmy grabbed at the hem of Armie’s shirt and yanked it up. Armie took over, peeling his shirt off and tossing it behind him. He leaned forward, bracing his weight on his hands.

“Wow,” Timmy said, his eyes going wide. He reached his hands towards Armie’s heavily inked chest and hesitated. “Can I…”

“Yeah,” Armie said. He held his breath as he waited for those long fingers to come into contact with his skin, bracing himself, but when it happened he was nowhere near prepared. His breath exploded out of him at the first touch, and it took him a moment to remember to pull more air in. 

Timmy skimmed across Armie’s collarbones and down his sides, then back up his arms. 

“There’s so much,” he said. “So many.”

Armie swallowed. “Are they stupid?” he asked, echoing Timmy’s earlier question. 

“No, they’re...incredible,” Timmy murmured. He traced his fingers over a spiral of words near Armie’s left shoulder. “What does this say? I can’t—“

“ _If you want to be happy, be._ It’s Tolstóy,” he explained. 

Timmy’s hands paused in their explorations. “It’s good advice,” he said. “Do you follow it?”

“I...no,” Armie admitted. “But that’s why it’s there. A reminder.”

A frown formed on Timmy’s face, and two tiny lines appeared between his eyes. He seemed to be considering that for a moment, and then nodded. He moved his hands from Armie’s shoulders downward, to where tiny silver barbells adorned his nipples. When Timmy’s palms brushed across them, Armie gasped. An electric charge shot straight down to his groin. 

Timmy yanked his hands back. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” Armie said. “The opposite.”

Timmy’s eyes widened. “Oh. Should I do it again?”

“Yes,” Armie said. He closed his eyes and waited.

Fingers brushed across his nipples again, and then settled on them, bumping over and around the hardening nubs, jiggling the barbells. Armie moaned, letting his head drop down until his forehead was resting against Timmy’s. 

“It really feels that good?” Timmy whispered. 

“Yeah. If you’re sensitive, it makes it even better.” Armie kissed Timmy hard. “Keep going. Please.”

The fingers began their dance again, and then one hand swept down, over Armie’s stomach, until Timmy was cupping Armie’s rock hard cock over the cotton of his briefs. 

“Shit,” Armie managed, and then Timmy began to stroke him, slowly, in rhythm with the way he was flicking at Armie’s piercings. 

He began to see stars from behind his closed eyelids, and realized that he wasn’t breathing. He sucked in a breath, and then let out a groan, his hips moving back and forth of their own accord, tiny movements that pressed him further into Timmy’s palm. 

Armie was decent at holding off an orgasm. He enjoyed a good long bit of foreplay, and usually had no problem keeping himself under control. Even so, he could feel the tightening in his balls and stomach rushing in too quickly, warning him that he needed to stop Timmy before it was too late. 

With a growl, he grabbed Timmy’s biceps and rolled them over. Timmy landed on top of him with a grunt, his hips pressing into Armie’s in a way that made it clear Armie wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the play. 

Timmy immediately adjusted to the new position, pushing himself up and looking down at Armie with wonder. He leaned in and placed his lips on Armie’s jaw, then headed south, lingering on the spot of skin covering Armie’s fluttering pulse. Then he trailed his tongue down Armie’s neck and began licking a complicated pattern across Armie’s chest and arms. 

After a few minutes, Armie realized what Tim was doing. He was tracing his tongue along each and every line of ink. For some reason, that made something tighten in his chest, and he threaded his fingers tenderly through Timmy’s curls. 

“Find anything you like?” Armie asked, his voice raw. 

“All of them.” Timmy said. “I love all of them.”

Then he fastened his mouth on Armie’s nipple and Armie cried out, arching his back. 

When Timmy sat back, he tapped the left barbell. “Did this hurt?” he asked. “To get these piercings?”

“Yes,” Armie said. 

“Really?” Timmy frowned. “I thought for sure you were going to say no.”

“You want me to lie to you?” 

“No. They really hurt?”

“Yeah. Not so much when I got it done, but after. They were sore and tender for a while.” Armie smiled. “Don’t worry, they don’t hurt now.”

“Hmmm.” Timmy absently brushed a thumb across his own nipple, and Armie’s mouth watered. 

“You thinking of getting your nipples pierced, Tim?” Armie asked. 

“You think it would look good? And feel good for me?”

“It would look incredible,” Armie said. He surged up into a sitting position and slid his hands around Timmy’s back, then licked Timmy’s left nipple. Timmy gasped. He did it again, and then sucked, and Timmy threw his head back and moaned. When he sank his teeth in, Timmy swore, his hips jerking forward. “I think it would feel incredible to you, too,” Armie said. 

When Timmy opened his eyes, they were shining. Armie continued to hold him in his lap, Timmy’s thighs on either side of Armie’s hips. Timmy kissed Armie again, long and deep, his hand scratching over Armie’s scalp. Armie slid his hands down to cup Timmy’s ass and pull him in. Timmy immediately began to rock his hips against Armie’s, bringing them into contact and setting up a delicious friction. 

After a few minutes, during which the only sounds were soft groans from both of them, Timmy pulled away. “I want to feel you,” he said. “Let me.”

Armie only nodded, setting Timmy on the bed and pulling off his briefs. Timmy did the same and then climbed back into position. 

The first touch of Timmy’s dick against his had Armie growling, nearly drowning out Timmy’s own whimper. He dragged Timmy closer and sucked on his neck. 

Timmy slid a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around them both. He stroked up, caught a handful of precome, and stroked down, then set up a rhythm. Armie gripped Timmy’s ass cheeks in his large palms and squeezed, pulling them apart. Timmy whined as the air hit his exposed hole. Armie tapped it with his finger, and Timmy shuddered against him, the rhythm of his hand stuttering in response. Armie pressed his finger against Timmy, and the sounds Timmy made took his breath away. 

Armie’s vision greyed around the edges, and he knew that, no matter that they had all night, he needed to know what it would feel like to be inside this beautiful man. Or to have Timmy inside him. To be honest, he didn’t much care _which_ , he just wanted to be connected in some way. 

“I don’t want to wait,” he said suddenly. “I want you _now_ , Timmy,”

“Yeah,” Timmy breathed. “Me too.”

“You want to fuck me, or you want me to fuck you?” Armie asked. He pushed Timmy off of his lap enough to roll towards the nightstand. 

“I don’t...you’d let me?” Timmy sounded suspicious, and Armie paused, turning back. 

“Of course. Do you have a preference?” he asked. 

“No, I—“ Timmy pushed his curls back and swallowed. “You. I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay.” Armie opened the drawer to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube and a condom. When he turned back around, Timmy was looking at him with huge eyes. 

He smiled and leaned in to capture Timmy’s lips. He kissed the kid as he settled him on his back again, and then sat back, leaving his palm cupped against Timmy’s cheek. Timmy was gazing up at him in wonder. 

A thought occurred to Armie, and he went cold. 

“Timmy, you’re not...are you a virgin?” _Shit_ , Armie thought. The kid seemed so sure of himself, comfortable with physical activity, that he hadn’t even considered the possibility before this moment. 

But Timmy was shaking his head. “No, I’m not...I’ve had sex before.”

“You sure?” Armie asked. “It’s okay if you haven’t, I just—“

“I have,” Timmy said. “I swear.”

Armie kissed him again, and then turned his attention to preparation. He watched Timmy closely as he slid the first finger inside and began to stroke in and out with a steady rhythm. Timmy groaned and his eyes slid closed. At the second finger, he thrashed his head to the side and pumped his hips, forcing Armie deeper inside. Armie knew the moment he hit that special spot, because Timmy let out a choked moan and twisted his hands around the pillow beside his head. 

Armie wanted every inch of Timmy to be his. He wanted to taste it all, touch it all. Find all of his most sensitive spots, hear all of the sounds that he made. 

Soon, Timmy was as ready for him as he was ever going to be. Armie rolled the condom on, shifted his hips forward and lined up. “Ready?” he asked. 

Timmy’s eyes fluttered open. He nodded, seeming unable to speak. 

Armie leaned down and kissed Timmy again — _god_ he loved kissing Timmy — and pushed inside. He inched his way in, closing his own eyes and muffling his moans against Timmy’s neck, the velvety heat that surrounded him almost too much to take. Timmy gasped and whimpered underneath him, and when he was fully seated, and pushed himself up so he could check in. 

“You okay,?” Armie asked. He lightly touched Timmy’s cheek, and Timmy opened his eyes. There were lines of strain around them, but he just bit his lip and nodded. 

“I’m good,” he said. “You can move.”

“If it’s too much, tell me,” Armie said. “I know I’m—“

“You’re incredible,” Timmy said. He reached up and stroked Armie’s cheek. “But if you don’t move soon I’m going to—“

Armie pulled out an inch and then pushed back inside, and Timmy cut himself off with a throaty moan. 

“Yessss,” he hissed. “Keep going.”

Not needing it be told twice — or a fourth time — Armie pumped his hips, slowly at first and then faster. He found that what he had said earlier held. He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t care how fast this was over, he needed to experience Timmy in as many different ways as he could as long as the kid was here. If this was over too fast, he’d give himself some time to recover and then start again. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t take much, not with the way Timmy was making him feel. 

The sounds of their bodies moving and their breath continued until Timmy suddenly let out a strangled yell and exploded between them. 

“Oh, fuck,” Armie gasped. It only took two more thrusts before his balls tightened and he was crying out his own release and collapsing on top of Timmy. 

When he could breathe again, and turned his head and placed a row of kisses along Timmy’s neck. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Timmy hummed, and brought his arms up to circle around Armies back. He began to stroke up and down in long, slow loops. When Armie started to pull away, Timmy flattened his palms and held him down. 

“Don’t,” he said. “Stay. For another minute. Please.”

“I’m not crushing you?”

“I like it,” Timmy said. 

Armie smiled. He felt like he was floating. He nuzzled into Timmy’s curls, breathing in his scent. He’d stay as long as Timmy would let him. 

Eventually, Timmy squirmed underneath him. 

“Now I’m crushing you,” Armie said. 

“No,” Timmy said. “But it’s...when I...it’s sticky and cold.”

Armie laughed. “Okay, let’s clean up.” He pushed off of Timmy, grinning at the mess on their stomachs and chests. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He moved into the bathroom, ran a hand towel under warm water, and returned to the bedroom. The sight of Timmy sprawled across his bed, eyes closed, was like a work of art. For a fleeting moment, it occurred to him that this was the first time he had had anyone new in his bed since—

Timmy opened his eyes and smiled. “Too far,” he complained. “You’re too far away.”

“Sorry.” Armie moved back to the bed and pushed the past out of his mind. It was easy to do, he realized, with Timmy here. He swiped the cloth across Timmy’s chest, laughing at the way Timmy squirmed and giggled, and then tossed it in the hamper.

When he returned to the bed, he urged Timmy to stand so he could pull the covers back. Then they stood on opposite sides of the bed for a moment, watching each other. 

Timmy suddenly looked nervous. He bit at his lower lip, and wrapped his arms around his middle.

“What’s wrong?” Armie asked climbing into the bed. He had thought Timmy was fine but maybe now that the euphoria was fading...he was starting to have regrets. 

Timmy shrugged. “You can kick me out if you want,” he said. 

“Kick you out? Why the fuck would I kick you out?” Armie paused with his knee on the mattress. 

“I know sometimes, after...people don’t like it when you overstay your welcome. So I just meant that if—“

“Timmy. Do you want to go?” Armie asked. _Please say no,_ he thought. _I don’t want to be done with this._

To his relief, Timmy shook his head vigorously. “No. _I_ don’t want to go. But I will if you want me to, and you don’t have to feel bad or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m annoying.”

Armie crawled onto the bed and reached out a hand. “Come on,” he said. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t think you’re annoying. I promise.”

Timmy’s shoulders, which had hunched up around his ears, relaxed. He took Armie’s hand and let Armie pull him back into the bed. They fell together onto the pillows, and Armie pulled the covers up around them. He reached out and flipped the light off. 

He drew Timmy into his arms, and Timmy snuggled against him, his breath warm and moist at Armie’s throat. Armie could hear his own heart beating. He wondered if Timmy could hear it, or feel it. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Armie whispered, after a few minutes. 

“Me too,” Timmy said. “I’m glad I decided to walk into your shop.”

“Me too. I’m glad you hadn’t had dinner.”

“Me too.” Timmy giggled. “I’m glad you chased me out of the restaurant.”

“How could I not?” Armie kissed the top of Timmy’s head. 

The silence stretched around them, and after a while, Armie thought Timmy might be asleep. But then he spoke again. 

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” Timmy murmured. 

“Why? You have to get home early?” Armie frowned into the dark. It shouldn’t be giving him this much of a problem, the idea of Timmy walking out the door. 

“No. I just don’t want to miss anything.” Armie felt Timmy’s lips press against his neck. “And I want to know more about your tattoos before you get sick of me.”

“Tomorrow,” Armie said. “Tomorrow I’ll tell you about them all.”

Timmy snuggled closer with a deep, contented sigh, which Armie echoed with one of his own. He was asleep moments later with a smile on his face.

He slept peacefully. The doubts didn’t resurface until the morning. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had met this naive kid, taken him home, and slept with him. And he had done it despite the fact that he knew he had nothing to offer him beyond the one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I literally could not stop thinking about this story and wrote all night and in the morning I was pretty sure this was a mess. I tried to fix it. I don't know if I succeeded. If it isn't up to par, I apologize. Be kind. Who am I kidding, you're always kind. Love you all.
> 
> 100% Fiction.
> 
> Also, the official soundtrack for this story is Mini Mansions' album "Guy Walks into a Bar..." Give it a listen because it's on loop here in my house.

When Armie opened his eyes a few hours later, the moonlight creeping around the edges of the shade had changed to sunlight. He immediately smiled at the feeling of someone cuddled in his arms and pulled him close. Contentment surrounded him with more warmth than the blanket that was tucked around them both. Armie nuzzled at his companion, thinking idly that he could stay like this quite happily forever. 

Then he stilled, the events of the night before rushing back to him. _Timmy_.

He had met this naive kid, taken him home, and slept with him. And he had done it despite the fact that he knew he had nothing to offer him beyond the one night. 

With a grimace, he recalled the way Timmy had looked just before bed, uncertain and small, expecting to be asked to leave immediately after they were done fucking. He hadn’t wanted Timmy to go then. He didn’t want Timmy to go _now_. But the truth of the matter was, Timmy was going to have to go at some point. 

And he hated to think how Timmy would look at him when it was time. 

He kissed the top of Timmy’s head, and then carefully extricated himself from the bed. For a moment, he thought the kid was going to wake up, but he merely pulled the blankets over his head and disappeared beneath them. Armie smiled affectionately, then pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and crept out of the room. 

After brewing coffee, he poured himself a cup, left an extra mug and the sugar out on the counter, and stepped barefoot onto his tiny patio. There was an old iron table and two canvas chairs out there, left by previous tenants for who knew how long, and he settled himself into one with a sigh to think. 

It was barely ten minutes later that the sliding door opened and Timmy appeared, his toes curling hesitantly over the threshold. Armie grinned at the sight of him. His curls were sticking up in all directions, his hoodie was zipped up to his throat...and he was wearing Armie’s cargo shorts from the day before, held up on one side with a tightly clenched fist. 

“Morning,” Armie said. 

“Hi. You didn’t wake me up,” Timmy replied.

“You looked like you were happy sleeping.” Armie gestured at the shorts. “Those are a little big on you.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I hope it’s okay, I just… the jeans are kind of tight and—“

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” In fact, seeing Timmy holding up his too-large shorts caused a funny feeling to settle in his chest, something that was somehow both tight and loose, achy and warm. He wondered idly if Timmy was wearing anything _under_ them, and the idea that he might not be made his dick perk up with interest. He cleared his throat. “There’s coffee if you want.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“I left a mug out for you. Go ahead and grab it and join me,” Armie said. “There’s milk in the fridge.”

Timmy disappeared into the apartment and returned a minute later with a mug full of steaming coffee. He crossed to the empty chair, hiked up the shorts, and sat down gingerly. 

Armie was immediately concerned. “You doing okay?” he asked. “A little sore?”

Timmy flushed and smiled into his coffee. “A little. Not too bad.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes and watched as the apartment complex woke around them. A couple of kids ran by, involved in some kind of intense game. A wife came out on a balcony and shouted some last minute shopping list additions down to a husband before he drove away. An old man ambled by with a cane and a set of headphones, laughing to himself. 

“You’ve got a nice apartment,” Timmy said. 

“Thanks,” said Armie. “I won’t be here too much longer, though.”

Timmy frowned. “Why? Where are you going?”

“Don’t know yet. Somewhere cheaper, with roommates probably. I can’t afford this place now that I’m here alone.” Armie immediately regretted his words, because he knew that, sharp as Timmy was, he’d pick up on the clue. He did. 

“You had a roommate here before?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Armie said. 

“But there’s only one bedroom...oh.” 

Armie glanced at Timmy, and was dismayed at the sympathy he saw reflected in Timmy’s eyes. 

“When did they move out?” Timmy asked quietly. 

“He left about a month ago,” Armie said. 

After a beat, Timmy said, “It’s warm out, kind of. I mean, for the last day of the year.” Armie wanted to kiss him for attempting to change the subject. 

“Yeah, it’s been really mild this year,” Armie said. 

They were quiet for another minute, and then Timmy said, “I should probably get going.” But he didn’t move. 

Armie frowned. “Why? I thought you didn’t have anything going on this morning.” Unless Timmy was realizing on his own that Armie was not fit for anything but a one night stand at the moment and was backing off without prompting. 

“I don’t. I just...I’m sure you don’t want me hanging around.” Timmy twisted his cup back and forth in his hands. 

“I don’t mind you here.” What he _should_ do, Armie realized, was take the out Timmy was offering. Let Timmy decide to leave, call an Uber, and get on with his life. But the way his stomach twisted at the idea had him scrambling to convince the kid to stay. Just a little longer. “If you’re not too picky, I can offer you breakfast.”

“You sure?” Timmy asked. He looked surprised. 

“Yeah. Stay a while. I’ve got nothing to do today, and...you’re pretty good company.” He smiled, and Timmy smiled back. 

“Okay.”

“Do you need to let anyone know where you are?” Armie asked. 

Timmy shook his head. “No. I texted my mom last night and told her I wouldn’t be home.”

“Where does she think you are?” Armie asked. 

“I told her I was staying at a friend’s place,” he said. Then he snorted. “But she probably knows what was really going on.”

“How?”

Timmy looked away, his shoulders hunching slightly. “She knows I don’t really have any friends.”

Armie stared at Timmy for a beat, and then laughed. Timmy looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“I’m sorry,” Armie said. “I find that impossible to believe.”

“I...it’s true,” Timmy said. He looked almost defensive, as if Armie was calling him a liar. 

Armie sat forward and laid a hand on Timmy’s shoulder. “Look, I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours and I already know that I’d rather hang out with you than most people I know. So I can't imagine that I’m the _only_ person in the world who finds you interesting.”

Timmy blinked at him, his mouth dropping open. “You really feel that way?” he asked, his voice thin and shaky. 

“Yeah,” Armie said, and he knew it was true, even if saying it would make things worse when it was time to part ways. He _liked_ Timmy. Liked the way he thought, and talked, and...everything else. “I think you probably don’t have a good read on how people see you. I bet there are people who are like ‘ _that Timmy guy is cool I wish he’d hang out more_.’”

Timmy laughed softly. “Maybe. I mean, it’s not like I talk to no one ever, I just...don’t seem to make real friends, you know? Not like other people do. I thought maybe college would be different. A fresh start. But it was sort of the same. People are cool with me being around, but I’m no one’s first choice.”

He looked so incredibly _sad_ that Armie wanted nothing more than to pull Timmy into his arms, and tell him that, if things were different and Armie wasn’t a fucking mess, Timmy would be _his_ first choice. 

Instead, he just squeezed Timmy’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort. He suddenly knew he wasn’t going to kick this kid out any sooner than he absolutely had to, no matter whether or not he should. 

“I’m sorry it’s been rough for you,” Armie said. “But hang in there, okay? You’ve only been there a few months. Your new best friend might be in a class next semester or something. And anyone who _wouldn’t_ pick you first? Idiots.”

Timmy smiled, but looked like he didn’t quite believe Armie. 

“Come on,” Armie said, standing. “Let’s go in and you can show me how you scramble eggs.”

“Okay, but just to warn you,” Timmy said, following Armie inside. “I’ve been known to serve my eggs crunchy...with extra shell.”

Armie laughed and led Timmy into the kitchen. “In that case, watch and learn. I’m about to teach you an important life skill: how to crack eggs without crumbling the shell.”

After freshening up their coffees, Armie busied himself pulling out a frying pan, butter, eggs, and a half a loaf of bread. 

“You want me to toast the bread?” Timmy asked. “I bet I can handle that.”

“Nope. We’re going to make toad-in-the-hole.” Armie turned on a burner and sliced a pat of butter onto the pan to melt. 

“What is _that_?” Timmy asked, eyeing the ingredients suspiciously, as if looking for actual toad. 

“It’s delicious.” He pulled four slices of bread out of the bag, tore a round piece out of the center of each, and set the hollowed-out slices into the butter. “Come here.”

Armie proceeded to show Timmy how to cleanly crack an egg flat on the counter, how to fill the center of the bread slices with eggs, and season them.

Timmy smashed his first egg too hard, splattering it all over the counter. He turned bright red and stood there, staring at it, egg dripping from his hand. 

“Oh, shit,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Armie laughed. He couldn’t resist swooping in and kissing Timmy on one flaming cheek before grabbing a towel to wipe off his hand and clean the counter. “Just try again.” 

Timmy’s second attempt was successful, and he giggled when the egg slid into the pan. 

Five minutes later, they were sitting on the sofa, munching on their breakfast. 

“This is incredible,” Timmy said. His tongue darted out to catch some yolk that was dripping down the side of his hand. “How come I’ve never had this before?”

Armie swallowed a giant bite of his own toast, trying not to get too distracted by the sight of Timmy’s tongue. “You’ve been living a deprived and flavorless life?”

“That’s an understatement,” Timmy snorted. 

When they were done, they brought their plates to the sink. While Armie did the dishes, Timmy wandered around the kitchen and living room, chattering about nothing of consequence and occasionally hiking up Armie’s shorts with one hand. Eventually, he came to lean a hip on the counter beside the sink.

When Armie was done, Timmy stepped away from the sink and the shorts slid down a few inches, enough for Armie to be positive Timmy was going commando. As Timmy reached down to pull them up, Armie stepped forward and caught his hands. Timmy blinked at him. 

“What are you—“

Armie silenced him with a kiss, taking advantage of Timmy being mid-sentence by immediately slipping his tongue past Timmy’s lips. Timmy let out a surprised whimper and responded enthusiastically, tangling his tongue with Armie’s without hesitation. 

When Armie pulled back, the shorts slipped another two inches, and he grinned down at the dark curls peeking out over the waistband. Timmy shifted, spreading his legs, trying to keep them up without the use of his hands. 

“Armie,” Timmy said. “I’m...your shorts—“

“Have been on you long enough,” Armie said. “Don’t you think?”

He waited. If Timmy wanted to say no, he could. But he smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

“You’re probably right,” he said. He shifted again, bringing his legs back together. The shorts slipped the rest of the way off and pooled at his feet. 

Armie looked down, his mouth watering at the sight of Timmy on full display. Without overthinking it, he sank to his knees and took Timmy’s half-hard cock in his hand. At his touch, Timmy gasped. 

With a twist of his wrist, Armie stroked Timmy lightly, watching as he rapidly hardened the rest of the way. Timmy gripped the edge of the counter behind him, breathing heavily. 

When the first bead of precome appeared, Armie licked it off, enjoying the salty taste, and then closed his mouth around the head of Timmy’s cock. 

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Timmy moaned. He let his head fall back and moved his hips slightly, encouraging Armie to continue. 

But Armie didn’t need much encouragement. He swallowed Timmy down, taking as much of him in as possible, moving his tongue around and around every time he pulled back. He kept up a light suction and worked Timmy at the base until Timmy’s moans became more desperate. 

Pulling off for a moment, Armie sucked a finger in his mouth, covering it with saliva. Then he went back to work on Timmy’s cock, sliding his finger behind Timmy’s balls to his hole. He circled it experimentally, and then pushed it inside. 

Timmy tensed. “Oh, god —- Armie, I’m gonna — fuck fuck _fuck_ —“ With a cry, he came down Armie’s throat. Armie swallowed as much as he could, then pulled off of Timmy with a slurp and rose to his feet. 

Blinking at him hazily, Timmy hooked an arm around the back of Armie’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue explored Armie’s mouth thoroughly, seeking out the taste of himself with small whimpers. 

When they broke apart, Timmy collapsed against Armie, who circled his arms around the kid to support him and keep him close. 

“Holy shit,” Timmy said. “You’re good at that, too.”

“Too?” Armie asked. 

“Yeah, too.” He moved his hands to tug at the elastic waistband of Armie’s sweatpants. “Let me return the favor.”

“In a minute,” Armie said. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Timmy nodded, and let Armie lead him to the bedroom. Once there, Armie unzipped Timmy’s hoodie to reveal a smooth expanse of chest. 

“I like that you’re not wearing anything under these layers,” Armie murmured. “So fucking hot.”

Timmy shivered as Armie pushed the hoodie off his shoulders and it fell to the ground. Armie looked, his eyes raking over Timmy’s waist, his long legs, and his cock that was already looking interested once again. 

“Jesus Christ, Timmy,” Armie breathed. “How are you even _real_?” 

He stepped close and took Timmy’s lips, fitting their bodies together, wanting Timmy to feel the way Armie was affected. He’d been rock-hard since Timmy’s dick entered his mouth, and he wanted Timmy to _know_. 

“What about you?” Timmy asked when they broke apart for a breath. “Are you commando under those sweats?”

“Why don’t you find out?” Armie asked. He stepped back and spread his arms. Timmy grinned and reached out, plunging his hand beneath Armie’s waistband. 

Armie moaned, his eyes sliding shut, as Timmy’s hand closed around him. Timmy stroked him lightly once, twice, three times, then withdrew his hand. 

“Let’s get you out of these,” Timmy murmured. He yanked Armie’s sweatpants to the floor and then immediately pulled his t-shirt up and over his head. When Armie was as naked as Timmy was, Timmy pushed him back onto the bed and climbed up over him.

Armie was pleased to see that Timmy was hard again — damned youthful refractory period — and he smiled up at him. “How do you want me?” he asked. 

“Exactly as you are,” Timmy breathed. “You promised you’d tell me more about your tattoos.”

“Pick one,” Armie said. “But only one. And then I want you to fuck me.”

Timmy’s head snapped up from his study of Armie’s chest. “What?”

“Unless you don’t want to,” Armie said. “But I’m desperate to feel you inside me.”

“I just...I can’t believe you’d want that,” Timmy said. “I know you mentioned it last night, but. No one ever wants _me_ to...so I never have.“

“Everyone else is a fucking idiot.” Armie wasn’t sure why he was surprised that Timmy had never topped. Maybe because, as he had noted the night before, Timmy seemed so confident physically. “Well, it’s up to you. If you want to try it, I’d like that. If not, we’ll think of something else. I’m guessing you’re too sore for another round.”

Timmy hesitated a moment more, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed out a shaky breath. “I want to fuck you.”

Armie grabbed the lube from the nightstand and another condom from the drawer. He held out the lube. “You want to do this part, or—“

Timmy took the lube and grinned. “Turn over,” he said. “Let me see your ass.”

Grinning back, Armie rolled onto his stomach. Timmy let out a small sound, and Armie peered over his shoulder. “What?” he asked. 

“I don’t know how I haven’t seen all this yet,” Timmy said softly. He tossed the lube onto the bed and crawled on top of Armie, brushing his hands across the tattoos on Armie’s back. “There’s the phoenix. He’s gorgeous.” Armie felt Timmy’s hands sweeping across his shoulder blades and the phoenix’s wings. “New beginnings, right?”

“Yeah,” Armie said. 

“What’s this?” Timmy lingered at a spot in the middle of his back, just under the phoenix. 

“The eye?” Armie guessed. 

“Yes. It looks like...kind of like the eye that’s on the dollar bill?”

“It’s the eye of providence,” Armie said. “It’s a representation that what we do is always seen by...well, God, but I think of it as a reminder that our actions make up who we are. We can’t hide from them, because we always know.”

Timmy hummed. “You’re so...philosophical,” he said. “You sure you never went to college?”

“I read a lot.” Armie said. “You don’t have to go to college to know things and think about stuff.” He turned his head and buried his face in his pillow. 

“I know that,” Timmy said softly. He placed a kiss on the eye of providence and then disappeared a moment. Armie heard the _snap_ as he uncapped the lube, and then felt a cool, wet finger glide down his crack. 

He blew out a breath and tried to relax as Timmy worked a finger in, and then two, stretching and twisting his way deeper inside. By the time Timmy was hitting his prostate, Armie was pumping his cock against the sheets, trying to relieve some of the pressure. 

“I’m ready,” he gasped. 

“You sure?” Timmy asked, sounding breathless himself. 

“I’m positive. Come on, I’m dying here, Timmy.”

Timmy’s fingers withdrew, and Armie listened to the crackle of the condom wrapper and Timmy’s sigh as he slid the protection on. Armie pushed himself up slightly on his knees, arching his back, to give Timmy a better angle. Then Timmy was bumping up against his entrance, and before he could brace himself, Timmy pushed smoothly inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” Timmy moaned behind him. 

Armie breathed shallowly into the pillow, enduring the delicious burn of the initial entry. When Timmy didn’t move, he shifted his hips forward and back to encourage him. 

“Wait,” Timmy gasped. “Hang on. I don’t want to blow too quickly, and you have to give me a — _shit_ — a second.”

“Take your time,” Armie managed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep still, not with Timmy’s cock filling him up and so close to bumping his pleasure zone, but he was damned well going to try to make this good for the kid. 

After a minute or two, Timmy grunted out a rough, “Okay,” and finally pulled out and pushed back in. 

Suddenly everything clicked into place, as if they had been doing this for decades and had practiced each move to precision. Armie met each of Timmy’s thrusts, and Timmy managed to nail Armie’s prostate with every stroke, dragging over it like his dick was connected to it with a homing beacon. 

Armie was moaning freely, his own cock leaking like a faucet. It wasn’t going to take him long at this rate. He reached for himself, and used long, hard strokes to bring himself right to the edge. He managed to stay there for a while, listening carefully to the sounds Timmy was making, and when he was pretty sure it was time, he started again. 

With only a few more strokes, he was coming, his dick pulsing in his hand and his ass clenching tightly around Timmy’s cock. Timmy cried out his name, jerked twice, and then collapsed across his back. 

Armie let himself melt into the mattress, breathing hard, enjoying the feeling of an almost liquid Timmy draped over him, panting in his ear. 

They may have both passed out momentarily, because the next thing he knew, Timmy was swearing softly. 

“What’s wrong?” Armie’s voice was slurred, as though he had been drugged. Maybe he had, he thought. Timmy seemed to be a kind of drug, after all. 

“I think I fell asleep,” Timmy muttered, a note of embarrassment in his voice. “I kind of drooled all over your shoulder.”

Armie chuckled. He waited for Timmy to roll off and fall onto his back beside him, and then he shifted to gather the kid into his arms. He nuzzled into his cheek and neck, planting a million tiny kisses wherever they would land. 

“Hey,” Timmy giggled. “What are you doing?”

“You’re a fucking natural,” Armie said between kisses. “That was fan-fucking-tastic. I think you made me pass out.”

“Really?” Timmy sounded delighted. 

“I swear to god.” Armie sighed. “So...you’re basically perfect. Anyone who says otherwise needs his brain checked.”

“Jesus, Armie.” Timmy pushed back until he could look Armie in the eye. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Not possible.” Armie went in for a kiss, and they made out lazily for a while, still feeling foggy from orgasm. 

Armie thought about what he had just told Timmy. It was true; in his eyes, Timmy was perfect. He cursed the timing of it all silently. Timmy deserved to be more than just someone’s rebound, and Armie worried that he couldn’t promise him anything more than that. If only he had met Timmy in a few months, after he had had a chance to get over his ex and felt like he could offer Timmy more of what he deserved. Maybe he could tell him he’d call when he was ready, and if Timmy was by some miracle still available...

When they pulled apart, Timmy snuggled into Armie’s embrace. 

“Damn, I’m so glad I met you,” he said against Armie’s collarbone.

“Same,” Armie said. 

“And I might not have. Makes me almost happy I…” Timmy trailed off. 

“Happy you what?”

Timmy was quiet for a minute. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to, like, freak out and call a help line? Because I’m fine, I swear.”

“I guess?” Armie’s nerves prickled in warning. “Depends on what you’re about to say.”

“Well...I thought — briefly — about ending it yesterday.”

“Ending what?” Armie nosed into Timmy’s hair, confused. 

“Ending...me.”

Armie froze. Then he squeezed Timmy to him reflexively, as if the kid was about to evaporate. 

“Timmy...are you talking about suicide?” he asked carefully. 

“I guess, yeah. But I didn’t. And then I went to get that tattoo, and met you, and...well, it just confirms for me that that was supposed to happen.” Timmy kissed Armie’s neck. “So I think I’m saying thanks for being at work last night and...everything.”

“Fuck.” Armie squeezed his eyes shut. _Now_ what was he supposed to do? “Timmy, you can't...you can’t put that shit on me.”

Timmy pulled back, tilted his head up so he could see Armie’s face. He brushed his fingers across Armie’s eyelids. “Put what on you? I didn’t. I—“

Armie opened his eyes. “That I’m the reason you’re still alive? Because I happened to be at the tattoo shop you happened to walk into? That’s not fair. I don’t...I barely know you, I can’t be the reason you don’t fucking kill yourself.” _Shut up_ , he told himself. He was likely just making it worse. 

“I didn’t say that,” Timmy said. He seemed awfully calm for someone who was just confessing to suicidal thoughts. “I said I _thought_ about it, not that I was actually going to do anything. I didn’t, like, plan anything. It was more just that I wondered about what would happen if I did, if anyone would care for more than a minute.” He sighed. “Aside from my parents, I doubt anyone would. And so I decided that I couldn’t be _done_ until there was at least one non-blood relative who would be completely devastated if I was gone. I had already decided it would be stupid _before_ I came into the shop. You didn’t stop me, you just made it clear that it would have been truly stupid. I just mean that I’m almost glad I _did_ wonder about it, because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have decided to get the tattoo, and we wouldn’t have had...this.”

Armie relaxed. It sounded like Timmy wasn’t actually suicidal, just a little bit messed up. He knew what that was like. Hell, he’d been there himself.

“Who the hell are these other people you’re fucking?” Armie asked suddenly. “The ones who kick you out before the bedsheets are cold and who make you feel like this? It’s them, isn’t it? Who’ve got you convinced you’re not worth caring about?”

Timmy paled. “No, not...I mean, there’s only been a couple. Two. One of them was...you really want to know?”

“I do,” Armie said. “And I want full names and addresses because I plan to kick their asses for not appreciating you.”

Timmy gaped at Armie and then smiled. “You’re such a protector,” he said. “With everything. The tattoo, in bed...listen, it’s not a big deal. One guy I met during freshman orientation, at a party. I got kind of drunk, and...well. I’m not super proud that that was my first time, but it was okay.”

“It was your first time and he kicked you out?” Armie really was going to punch whoever that fucker was. 

“Kind of? It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know it was my first time. Afterwards he said it wasn’t his house we were in, so I couldn’t stay. Like I said, I was drunk. I walked back to my dorm and passed out.”

“Did you at least use protection?” Armie asked. 

“Yeah, of course. I was drunk, not stupid.”

“Being drunk can make you stupid,” Armie said. “You said there were two. Who was the other asshole?”

Timmy sighed and buried his face in Armie’s chest. “That’s more embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“So I’m in this dorm, and I started hanging out with this group of guys on my hall, and one of them...I got a crush on him. Eventually, I guess he figured it out because he told me he wanted me. And we started sleeping together. I thought…” Timmy sighed. “I thought we were dating. I mean, it was stupid of me. We only ever hung out with the group, except for when he’d text me because his roommate was sleeping at his girlfriend’s, and I’d go to his room. I never stayed the night because he said he didn’t want the other guys to know.”

Armie growled under his breath, and Timmy laughed. 

“It’s okay. I was an idiot. I should have seen it but...I really liked him. He was...smart. And hot. And I couldn’t believe he was into me so I figured I’d take what I could get. But then one night I saw his roommate leave, and thought I’d surprise him.”

“Uh oh,” Armie muttered. 

“Yeah. Dumb move. He had a girl in there with him. Turns out she was his girlfriend. I don’t know how I missed that he was publicly dating someone, but here I was, standing in his doorway in my boxers, and he’s like ‘can we talk tomorrow, my girlfriend is here.’ I heard him tell her I was just some guy on his hall he helped out sometimes because I didn’t have any friends.” Timmy’s voice faded to a whisper. “The next day he told me he didn’t realize I didn’t know we were just fucking around.”

“I’m so sorry, Timmy,” Armie said. His heart went out to the kid. That had to have been devastating. 

Timmy shrugged. “It happens. And he was right. I don’t have friends. Or else one of them would have _told_ me. It became clear they all knew what had been going on, because it got super awkward after that. Thank god it was only another couple of weeks to winter break.”

“They might just not have known what to do,” Armie said. “They hadn’t known either of you long. Maybe some of them wanted to tell you but weren’t sure of the situation, or weren’t sure if they should.”

“True.” Timmy frowned. “I didn’t think of that. But anyway, it got me thinking that I have the wrong idea about sex. That one day maybe I’ll find that _person_ , but in the meantime I need to be more...okay with things being casual. One night stands and all that.”

Armie considered what Timmy was saying. He was young, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for him to adopt a casual attitude, but he also hated to hear him sound so jaded. Then again, considering what Armie had just been through, maybe it was a decent way to protect yourself. Timmy might be smarter than he was.

Then something occurred to him. “Hang on,” he said. “Is that what you’re doing with me? A casual thing? One night stand? And that’s why you keep saying you should go?”

Timmy blinked at him. “Yes? I mean...that’s what it is, right? You took me home and slept with me right away. That’s one night stand stuff.” 

“I guess,” Armie said. Of course, that was exactly what he had intended. He just didn’t love hearing Timmy say it. “Is that why you came into the shop?”

“To...find someone to hook up with?” Timmy asked. “No. I came in to get a tattoo. I didn’t think that maybe you'd be...until we went to dinner. And then I thought, you seemed like a good guy and I felt safe with you, and it would be a good experiment. To see how it would be to just go home with someone and not get all attached.”

Armie huffed. And then he cursed himself six ways from Tuesday, because this should be _great_ news. Timmy wasn’t expecting anything from him, so he didn’t need to feel bad about not being able to offer it.

“Only...I think there’s something wrong with me,” Timmy continued. “Because if we’re having a one night stand, it should be over. And I don’t—“ he hid his face in Armie’s shoulder. “I’m glad you haven’t kicked me out yet because I don’t want to go.”

Armie tightened his arms around Timmy again, relief coursing through him. “If there’s something wrong with you, then there’s something wrong with me,” Armie said. “I don’t want you to go either, even if...the initial intention was to have a one night stand.”

They were quiet for a while. Then Timmy spoke up. “Well...if neither of us is ready for it to be over...and we don’t have anywhere else to be...we could make it a two night stand.”

“A _two_ night stand?” Armie laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.”

“So let's make it a thing.” Timmy grinned. “Or kick me out. Your choice.”

Armie dipped his head and caught Timmy’s lips in an easy kiss. “Okay, a two night stand it is.” The idea made him ridiculously happy, even though he had an inkling that saying goodbye to Timmy the next day wouldn’t be any easier than it felt at the moment. 

They kissed and napped and kissed some more, whiling away the remainder of the morning. At one point, while sprawled across his stomach, Timmy said, “Can I ask you something that might be too personal and you can tell me to fuck off?”

“I think we’re past that,” Armie said. “Ask away.”

“I was just wondering — if you want to talk about it — what happened with your ex. Why you broke up.”

Armie hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about it, not really. But Timmy had opened up to him, and he felt like he should at least try to return the intimacy. 

“I asked him to marry me,” he murmured. “And he said no.”

Timmy stiffened. “Oh,” he said. “So you were, like, serious.”

“We’d been together four years,” Armie said. “Living together for a year and a half. I didn’t think the question was that out of the blue. I thought he would be anticipating it.”

“Why did he say no?”

Armie sighed. “He said he didn’t want to marry anyone. That he loved me and that should be enough.”

“But if he loved you, and you’d been together so long, why not get married?” Timmy asked. 

“That was my question. Henry believes all relationships are temporary. Even ones that last decades. He said that people grow and change and it’s not fair to promise forever when you don’t know what the future will bring.” Armie’s chest ached at the memory of the conversation, the one he knew was the end of their relationship. 

“Well, that’s...dumb,” Timmy said. “He’s dumb.”

Armie let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah?”

“If you asked me to marry you, I’d say yes. Not — not, like, today,” Timmy said quickly, blushing. “But if this wasn’t just a two night stand and we were actually dating, when you asked I would say yes.”

“You can’t know that,” Armie said. “Say we had just started dating. You couldn’t know that, eventually, you’d want to make that sort of commitment.”

“Maybe not,” Timmy said. “But I’m just saying that I some point, I would. Yeah, okay, so we can’t predict the future. But you can decide someone is your first choice, and promise to do your absolute best to keep choosing someone over and over. If he didn’t want to do that...he’s dumb.

Armie turned that over in his head. “I agree with you,” he said. “Henry didn’t.”

“So the dummy broke up with you?” Timmy asked. 

Armie smiled at how defensive Timmy sounded. “No. He actually didn’t want to break up. He just didn’t want to get married. We stayed together for another month, but…it wasn’t the same. And I realized that if he was never going to want to make a real commitment, then we weren’t going to work. Because I do believe in promising forever and having faith that you’ll be able to keep that promise. Like you said.”

“Then you broke up with him.”

“Yes.”

“But you loved him,” Timmy said. “Do you still?”

Armie sighed. “Yeah.”

“And you miss him.” 

“Yes,” Armie said, closing his eyes and waiting for the wave of despair to wash over him, the one he had been swimming in for weeks. It came, but it wasn’t as strong as he remembered. 

“Have you...have you been with anyone else since?” Timmy asked. 

“Just you,” Armie said. He fixed his gaze on Timmy and smiled. “But I swear to you...last night, and today, when we’ve been together, I wasn’t thinking about him at all.”

Timmy smiled. “I’m glad. It would have been understandable if you were, but I’m glad I distracted you enough that you didn’t. I didn’t either. Think about mine, I mean.”

“Good,” Armie said. He leaned in and kissed Timmy’s nose. “Then maybe this _two_ night stand is exactly what we both needed. A...palate cleanser.”

“I’m proud to be your palate cleanser,” Timmy giggled. “Call me anytime you need one. Until you find your _Cor Cordium.”_

“Same,” Armie said. “Speaking of which...let me look at your tattoo.”

Timmy sat up and swung his left leg around. Armie peered at the tattoo, checking that the edges of the surgical adhesive were secure. 

“No redness,” he murmured, pleased. “Does it hurt at all?”

“I keep forgetting it’s even there,” Timmy said. 

“Good. Tonight I’ll help you remove this and put on a new one,” he said. “We’ll wash away all that leakage and it’s going to look great.”

“I want another one,” Timmy said, suddenly. 

Armie looked up at him. “Of what?”

“I’m...thinking about that.” Was Timmy blushing?

“Well,” Armie said with a grin, “when you decide, come see me. Or text me pictures or ideas. I’ll design it for you.”

“You’d want to?” Timmy asked. “I don’t have your number.”

“I’ll give it to you, silly. And I’d be hurt if you went anywhere else,” Armie said. 

It was true, he realized. He didn’t want any other person touching that skin. It was _his._ The possessiveness flared up in him without warning, and he brushed his palms over Timmy’s thigh, biceps, chest. 

“Mine,” he said, in a low voice. 

Then, in a completely boneheaded move, he grabbed Timmy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled him in for a hard kiss. “Mine,” he murmured against Timmy’s lips. 

He expected Timmy to giggle at it, like it had all been a joke, but instead Timmy deepened the kiss and surged forward, climbing into Armie’s lap. He was halfway hard again — already — when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

Timmy pulled away, sliding back onto the mattress, and Armie glanced at the phone angrily. 

“You can get that,” Timmy said. “Your phone hasn’t rung all night, it might be important.”

Armie leaned over and snagged the thing, glancing at the screen. “Leo. Not important,” he said. He tossed the phone aside. “Come back here, we were in the middle of something.”

“Answer it,” Timmy said, rolling off the bed. “I have to use the bathroom anyway.”

With a grumble, Armie grabbed up the phone. 

“What do you want?” he asked. 

On the other end, Leo laughed. “Happy New Year’s Eve to you, too.” Leo's voice was rich and full of amusement...and weed, if Armie knew him. 

“Leo—“

“Listen, fucker, I’m calling to remind you to get your ass out of bed sometime today and come to my party tonight. It's gonna be _epic._ ”

_Shit_. Leo's party. Armie had completely forgotten. Leo had called the possession of the New Year’s party a full year ago, and had been planning it ever since. It was kind of a big deal to him that it be successful. And Armie had promised not to miss it, but that had been...before. He shifted, leaning up against the headboard and settling in for the argument. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think—“

“Don’t tell me you’re not going to make it,” Leo whined. “No fucking way.”

“Leo—“

“Look, answer me this: are you in bed?”

“Well, yeah, I’m in bed, but—“

“Then you _need_ this party, man. It’s one in the afternoon. I don’t care how depressed you are, It’s time to stop wallowing and take life by the lapels and shake its teeth a little. Find some new hot thing to take home with you tonight.”

Armie rolled his eyes. If Leo only knew. “I know this party is important to you, and I appreciate you trying to help me, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood.”

Timmy reappeared in the doorway, hovering, as if he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed back in. Armie beckoned him forward, holding up his left arm until Timmy hopped back on the bed and scooted up against his side. He grinned down at the kid, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. 

“Armie. Come on, man. You don’t have to stay all night. Or even come early. Just show up for like...an hour. I won’t even get mad if you duck out before midnight so you don’t have to kiss anyone,” Leo pleaded. 

At the mention of a kiss at midnight, Armie glanced down at Timmy. He smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be at the party, if Timmy was with him. His friends might see him with someone else and get off his case. And Timmy might enjoy it. Win-win.

“I’ll think about it,” Armie said. 

“Yeah? Really? Fantastic, man. See you tonight. Bring booze.”

The line went dead. Armie shook his head at the phone and tossed it aside. He squeezed Timmy to his side. 

“So,” he said. “There’s this party I’m supposed to go to tonight.”

“Oh.” Timmy looked down and began to play with a loose thread on the sheet. “That’s cool. What time do you have to go?”

“I don’t know. Later. Nine or ten, maybe?” Armie twisted Timmy’s curls between his fingers distractedly. 

“Okay. I can get out of your way then. Or earlier, if you need to, like, get ready and stuff.” His voice was deliberately and falsely light, as if masking disappointment. 

“What? No. I was going to see if you wanted to come,” Armie said. He tipped Timmy’s chin up so he could see his eyes. “If you aren’t interested in a New Year’s Eve party, we’ll stay here. Pop some champagne and turn on a countdown or something.”

“You want me to come with you?” Timmy asked, eyes wide. 

“Yeah. We’re having a two night stand, remember? It doesn’t work if you take off before the second night happens.” He smiled. “So what do you think?”

“I...yeah, okay. A party would be good.” Timmy grinned. “If you wouldn’t be embarrassed to have me there.”

“Timmy...you’re not stupid, don’t act like it.” Armie tucked his curls out of the way and nibbled on his ear. “Why the fuck would I be embarrassed? My only concern would be losing you to someone else before midnight. I know my friends, and I’ll have the hottest date there.”

Timmy shivered as Armie licked his way around his earlobe and found the sensitive spot just behind it. 

“Mmmm, okay,” he whispered. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Armie leaned back. “Let’s get some lunch, think about a shower, and then hit the store. Leo demanded a gift of booze and I’m nearly out of food.”

Timmy swung his leg over Armie’s lap, straddling him. He expertly brushed his thumbs over Armie’s nipple piercings, drawing a gasp from Armie. He grinned. 

“Sounds good,” he said, “but let’s shower first. Work up an appetite.”

“I like the way your mind works,” Armie said, grabbing Timmy’s hips and yanking him closer. 

As Timmy rocked against Armie with a low moan, Armie closed his eyes. Party or no party, he was pretty sure he was going to be ringing in the new year happier than he would have guessed just twenty-four hours earlier. 

Now, he just had to forget that, the next day, Timmy would be gone. But maybe not for good, he acknowledged. Maybe in a few months, he’d get another chance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I like that it matches exactly,” Timmy said softly. “Whenever I see it, I’ll remember you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the conclusion. ( _tear_ )
> 
> Thanks for going on this relatively short ride with me. I wish I could stretch this on forever, but I have other obligations that I've put on hold temporarily. It's time to return there.
> 
> 100% fiction, of course.
> 
> Peace and love.

Showering with Timmy was...an experience. 

Normally, Armie showered alone. He hadn’t showered with anyone, not even Henry, in a long long time. Most showers were too small for someone of Armie’s size on his own, let alone with a whole other body crammed into the space. The result was elbows in uncomfortable places and a lot of apologies. 

But when Armie had asked, “Do you want to shower first or second?” and Timmy had looked at him with wide eyes and shrugged, for some reason Armie found himself saying, “Or we could share.”

The way Timmy had beamed at him was worth it. 

Having his hands all over a slick, slippery Timmy was worth it, too. That and the kissing. Kissing Timmy was just...Armie couldn’t quite find a comparison for the way kissing Timmy made him feel. _Good._ It made him feel good. It wasn't any more complicated than that.

After their shower, they got dressed and left the apartment. Their first stop was the Noble Sandwich, where they ordered a Cuban and a Noble Pig and shared them both. Then they fetched Timmy’s car from the tattoo shop lot, dropped Armie’s bike at the apartment, and took the car to pick up the groceries and booze. 

Armie made Timmy wait in the car at the liquor store and Timmy pouted. But when he returned with a box of booze-filled chocolates and tossed it into Timmy’s lap with a “happy belated birthday,” the pout was replaced by a grin. 

Back at the apartment, Timmy talked Armie back into bed, cracked open the chocolates, and drizzled sweet liqueurs in strategic places and then licked them clean. Armie came down Timmy’s throat while Timmy came all over the sheets and they fed each other the hollowed out chocolates in a haze. 

This necessitated another shower, and Armie helped Timmy change out his bandage. 

Perched on the edge of the bathtub, Timmy gazed at the words inscribed on his calf, and then traced the same words on Armie’s collarbone. 

“I like that it matches exactly,” he said softly. “Whenever I see it, I’ll remember you.”

Hearing Timmy talk about remembering him like they were already parting ways made Armie’s chest hurt. 

“Hey,” he said, tweaking Timmy’s nose. “It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. You’ll call me, when you want more ink, or just…”

“You want me to?” Timmy asked.

“Come on, Timmy.” Armie ruffled his hair. “Of course I do. Anytime, even if it’s just to talk.”

Because the other thing they did for the remainder of the day was talk, and Armie felt like he could have conversations with Timmy until they both ran out of breath. 

Timmy wanted to major in psychology, but he didn’t want to go to med school, he was thinking about social work and counseling. Armie told Timmy about his occasional volunteer work helping teach kids’ art classes at the community center, and confessed that he used to think he wanted to be an artist. 

“You _are_ an artist, though,” Timmy said, after Armie admitted to having designed most of his own tattoos. 

“I’m not trained,” Armie said. “I just...play around, copy from books and stuff.”

“Well, so you’re self-taught. You could still go to art school or take classes. Or you could just keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t think you have to wait for someone else to certify or validate you in order to be an artist.”

Armie laughed and told Timmy he could already call himself a counselor if he wanted, too. 

Dinner was homemade pizza. Armie scorned Timmy’s preference for cheese only but made half the pizza three-cheese and even stole a slice himself. 

Eventually, it was time to leave for Leo’s party. Timmy sat on the freshly-made bed and watched as Armie got ready. 

“Wow,” Timmy said, when Armie was fully dressed. “You look…”

“What?” Armie brushed at his blue Henley and brown pants. “Too much?”

“No. You — you’re just — we should go before —” He stood up and backed out of the room, and Armie followed. 

“Before what?”

“Before we mess up the bed again.” Timmy shot him a wry smile. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look any better, but I was wrong.”

Armie flushed at the compliment, but just cleared his throat and grabbed his keys. 

Their first stop was to deliver Timmy’s car back to his house and give him an opportunity to change. Armie followed the little sedan west out of the city. As they cruised over the rolling hills with trees all around them, Armie began to realize that he might be a little out of his element in Timmy’s neighborhood. 

Sure enough, when Timmy pulled off the road, it was onto a long, winding drive that led to a large house on the edge of a lake. He brought the bike to a stop behind Timmy’s car and shut off the engine, but remained where he was. 

Timmy came around the side of the car. “What’s the matter?” he said. 

Armie looked up at the house, and then around at the vast yard, and shook his head. “I didn’t know you lived out here.”

“What do you mean?” asked Timmy. 

“Just...I don’t really belong here. Your parents…”

Timmy waved away Armie’s concern. “They’re not even here. They went to some charity gala. And anyway, they’re super liberal.” He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Actually, I think they’d like you. My mom would, anyway, and my dad would really only want to know if you voted for Trump. You didn’t, did you?” A flicker of concern crossed his face. 

“Of course not,” Armie said. 

“Then you’re fine. Come on.” He walked backward up the path towards the front door, and Armie swung his leg over the bike and followed.

Timmy unlocked the front door and ushered Armie inside. He turned on a light, and Armie looked around. The place was clean and bright, with high ceilings and exposed beams. It looked...comfortable. 

“My room is upstairs,” Timmy said, heading for the wide wooden staircase. He hesitated. “Unless...you wanted to wait down here? I won’t be long.”

“I can come up with you,” Armie said. “You’ve seen my bedroom, seems only fair.”

Timmy rolled his eyes and started up the stairs. Armie followed. The wall leading up the stairs was covered in framed photos, and he dragged his eyes away from Timmy’s ass to examine a few, grinning at the sight of a young Timmy at various stages of childhood.

Timmy’s bedroom was large with giant windows looking out over the lake. While Timmy opened his closet and disappeared inside, Armie immediately crossed to the windows and peered out at the moonlit water.

“Quite a view,” he said.

“What? Oh. Yeah.” Timmy stuck his head out of his closet. “I wish you could see it in the daylight. It’s especially cool when there’s activity, people boating and stuff.”

“Do you?” asked Armie. “Go boating, I mean.”

Timmy nodded. “Yeah. We’ve got a little pontoon boat we take out sometimes. It’s fun in the summer, when you can bring food and cruise around the lake and just kind of hang out. What about you?” He ducked back inside the closet.

“Not really,” Armie said. “I mean...I never have.”

“Do you not like the water?” Timmy asked, his voice slightly muffled. 

“I like it just fine,” Armie said. He turned away from the windows to examine the rest of the room. “Have you ever gone tubing? That’s the way I usually interact with the water around here.”

“I _love_ tubing,” Timmy said.

_We could go sometime._ The words were on the tip of Armie’s tongue and he really thought about saying them. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to give Timmy the wrong idea. Maybe, if they stayed in touch, and down the line he thought he was ready to explore something new, and Timmy was still available...maybe _then_ he could suggest it.

Armie wandered around Timmy’s room, investigating the space. He didn’t want to be too nosy, but Timmy had invited him up here, so he figured it was okay to look a little. He took in the hip hop and film posters plastered all over the walls, smiling that some of his classic favorites were represented in both categories. He chuckled at the rows of superhero figurines gathering dust on a shelf. He avoided the black leather-bound book on the desk that looked like it might be a diary. 

Timmy had a queen-sized bed, positioned in the center of one wall. Armie sank onto it and rolled his eyes at the pair of stuffed toys perched by the pillows. They were from The Lion King, he realized, recognizing the young cubs. He picked them up and softened at the realization that their noses were magnetized, so that they were always kissing.

With a sigh, Armie stretched out on Timmy’s bed, rested the stuffed toys on his stomach, and waited. After a few more minutes, Timmy emerged from the closet.

“So I’m not sure if this is—” Timmy cut himself off. “What are you doing?”

Armie was peering up that the ceiling. “Do you have glow-in-the-dark constellation stickers up there?” he asked.

“I...yes. They’re from when I was a kid, and they kind of don’t come off easily.” Timmy sounded embarrassed, and when Armie lifted his head to look at him, he saw the slight flush in Timmy’s cheeks.

“I like them,” Armie said. “Maybe I’ll get some for my new apartment. What do you have up there?”

“I don’t know. Whatever came in the box?” Timmy went over to the light switch and flicked it off so that the stickers were illuminated. Then he was at Armie’s side, flopping down next to him. “I’m not really up on my constellations. I think I just liked that they glowed in the dark.”

Armie felt his heart beat out of rhythm twice as the mattress sank beside him and Timmy’s arm settled against his. He let himself relax into Timmy’s side and focused on breathing for a moment before he said, “Looks like the standards. Big Dipper, Orion, etc.”

“Which are those?” Timmy asked.

Armie raised one hand. “Do you see the bigger star right over there?”

Timmy leaned his head closer to Armie’s, trying to see from Armie’s perspective. Their temples touched, and Armie struggled to keep looking up and not turn to nuzzle into Timmy’s cheek.

“I think so,” Timmy said.

“So if you follow that down this way, and then over—”

“Oh, right. The thing that looks like a ladle. What about Orion?”

Armie moved his hand to the left. “It’s not really in the same spot as it would be in the real sky,” he said. “But there, where there’s a cluster of three stars? That’s the belt. And you can see the bow to the right.”

“Do you know a lot about constellations?” Timmy asked. He shifted onto his side, facing Armie, and Armie let his head fall to the left so they were looking into each other’s eyes.

“Some,” said Armie. “I was into it when I was a kid so I learned about them. I remember the things that struck me.”

“What’s your favorite?” Timmy asked.

“Phoenix,” Armie said with a smile. “You can see it up in the sky tonight, it’s the right time of year. I think even as a kid I liked the idea of being able to start anew every so often.”

Timmy smiled back and then shifted forward, pressing their lips together briefly.

“What was that for?” Armie asked.

“I said it before, I’ll say it again. You’re so philosophical. It’s cute.”

Armie lost the battle to remain in place and rolled on top of Timmy, sliding his right leg in between Timmy’s, pinning his hands beside his head, and capturing his mouth. Timmy sighed, rolling his hips up against Armie’s thigh and returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

When they came up for air, Armie shook his head and stroked a thumb down Timmy’s cheek. “What is it about you,” he said, “that I can’t seem to stop touching you?”

Timmy’s lips trembled slightly, shining in the moonlight streaming in from the giant windows. “I don’t know,” he said. “But...same.”

With a grunt, Armie lifted himself off and rolled to his feet. He offered Timmy a hand. “You ready to go?” he asked. “Because if we stay much longer, we won’t get to the party and you’re parents are in for a surprise when they get home.”

Timmy laughed and let Armie pull him to his feet. He turned the light back on. “Almost ready,” he said. “I just wanted to grab my bag from the bathroom.”

Blinking at the sudden brightness, Armie didn’t get a good look at Timmy until he had returned from the ensuite with a small toiletry bag in his hand.

“Oh,” was all he said.

“What?” Timmy looked down at himself, and then back up. “Is this not okay? Should I wear something else?”

Timmy was dressed in black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and a hip-length black blazer. The effect was stunning. Armie shook his head.

“No, wear that,” he said. “But don’t be surprised if I hover all night to keep people from trying to steal you away.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Timmy said, grinning. He shoved his feet into his black boots and laced them up. Then he grabbed a small backpack, tossed the toiletry bag inside, and straightened. “I’m ready,” he said.

Thirty minutes later, they were pulling up in front of a house not too far from Armie’s apartment. The street was littered with cars, the house was lit from every window, and the sound of music could be heard from inside the walls.

“Wow,” Timmy said, climbing off the motorcycle. “Big party.”

“Yeah, Leo really went all out,” Armie said.

Inside, they stowed their jackets and then Timmy followed Armie through the house. They stopped every so often to greet someone, and Armie introduced Timmy around. Most people took the introduction in stride, but he noticed that he did get a few curious looks. He deliberately didn’t assign Timmy a label, just introduced him by name, and he knew that some people were wondering.

Leo raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, just accepted the offer of booze, gave Armie a one-armed hug, and offered them a hit off the joint he was smoking.

A while later, they found themselves in the living room, where people had shoved the furniture out of the way to create a makeshift dance floor. They leaned up against a wall, sipping their beers. Armie noticed that Timmy was bouncing slightly to the beat, and kept looking at the small, moving crowd.

“You want to dance, don’t you,” he said, smirking.

“No, I...well, maybe,” Timmy said. “You wanna?”

Armie shook his head. “No way. I don’t dance.”

Timmy’s mouth popped open. “What kind of a thing is that, _I don’t dance_? Everyone dances.”

“Not me.” Armie drank from his beer, and when he lowered it, Timmy had settled back against the wall and was looking sadly at the crowd. “You know, you can if you want to,” he said, giving Timmy’s shoulder a nudge. “I’m cool with hanging here for a bit.”

“Really?” Timmy said. “Like, maybe just for a minute.”

“Go,” Armie said. He took the half-finished beer out of Timmy’s hand. “But I’ll probably drink the rest of your beer as a tax.”

Timmy giggled and then bounced his way into the crowd. Armie drank the beers and watched as he moved, smiling at the thought of having Timmy’s gyrating hips moving against his later that night.

He was pulled out of his imagination when he heard a small shriek to his right. He turned to see Alicia coming towards him. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his neck.

“You showed,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re not sitting alone in your apartment drinking TX and chain-smoking.”

He went to roll his eyes at her, but then shrugged. “It was a close thing,” he said. “That _was_ the plan.”

“What made you decide to come?” she asked. His gaze drifted over to the dancing crowd, where he located Timmy. The kid was now dancing with Zazie, Alicia’s wife, and looked like he was having a great time. He smiled.

“Armie,” Alicia said, leaning against his arm. “Who. Is. That?”

He glanced down at her narrowed eyes, the gleam that said she had sniffed out some major gossip, and smirked.

“That. Is. Timmy,” he replied.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Armie Hammer. Who the hell is ‘Timmy’ and where did he come from?”

“I gave him a tattoo,” Armie said.

She laughed. “Oh, Armand. It looks like you gave him more than—”

“Okay, shut up,” he muttered. “He came in on Monday night. A walk-in. And afterwards, he was hungry, so I suggested he try Steer’s. Since I was headed there too, I offered to show him.”

“And?”

“And...we ended up hanging out. Getting along.”

“So you invited him to Leo’s party?” She poked his shoulder. “Or…”

“Jesus. You’re like—”

“A dog with a bone, yes yes, I know the cliché. Come on, spill it.”

“I took him home, okay?” Armie said. “And then...he was still around, so I invited him here.”

She smiled, a slow, catlike grin. “Wow. Armie Hammer, getting back on the horse like a boss. That’s one way to get over heartbreak, I suppose. Fuck a hot young—”

“Stop.” He shook his head. “It’s not like that. He’s...he’s not just…”

“Oh my god.” She grabbed his sleeve and pinched some of his skin in the process. “Oh my god, are you into him? For real?”

He turned back to watch Timmy, who was laughing as Zazie grabbed his hand and twirled him around. Armie couldn’t help the soft smile, didn’t want to. But then he swallowed, and dropped his gaze to his shoes.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Whatever it would be, right now he’d just be a rebound.”

Alicia wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down into a hug. “Honey,” she whispered in his ear, “rebounds are a myth. If the right person comes along, it matters fuck-all who you’re with or who broke your heart and how recently.”

Armie hugged her back, his stomach somersaulting at her words. She was wrong, wasn’t she? If he was still not over Henry, he didn’t have much to give Timmy. It wasn’t fair to Timmy. Unless he had his whole heart to offer, it wasn’t right to temporarily hand him a few broken pieces. Timmy might get hurt.

He thought about the past twenty-four hours since they had met. It seemed like he had known the kid for a lot longer than that, that he knew him inside and out...and yet, at the same time, the idea of discovering more about Timmy, getting to know every single cell in his body and every thought in his head, sent a prickle of excitement down his spine and around into his stomach. That combination, the _knowing_ and _not knowing_ all at once, was overwhelming but also made him feel more alive than he remembered feeling in a very long time.

“You think so?” he asked, pulling back to look her in the eye. “You think it doesn’t really matter.”

She put her hands on his cheeks. “Sweetie, you’re already a goner. I can tell. Let yourself fall in love with that boy. Don’t worry about the rest.” She bounced up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to collect my woman. Your Timmy will be free in a moment.”

Then she was moving through the crowd over to the pair. She put her hand on Timmy’s shoulder, and he turned. She leaned in and said something to him, and he raised his eyes, scanning, until they landed on Armie and he smiled. What was she saying, Armie wondered.

Timmy turned to Zazie and hugged her, and then bounced across the floor until he was standing in front of Armie.

“You sure you won’t dance with me?” he asked. “I just lost my partner to her wife.”

Armie leaned down and kissed him, slow and sweet. He pulled Timmy into his space, fit their hips together, and swayed slightly. “There,” he whispered in Timmy’s ear. “We’re dancing.”

Timmy giggled into Armie’s neck. “This isn’t what I meant,” he said, “but I’ll take it.”

They stayed like that another minute, until Armie heard a sound that had him pushing Timmy away and stepping back, his heart beating quickly. He whipped his head around until he found what he was looking for.

“What’s the matter?” Timmy asked, moving into him again.

“Henry,” Armie whispered.

“Henry? As in, your ex-boyfriend Henry? What…” Timmy followed Armie’s gaze until he spotted the man who was being welcomed by a group near the door. “ _Oh._ ”

Armie watched as, in the next room, his ex-boyfriend greeted people with exuberant hugs and a charming smile. He looked perfect, as always, his cheekbones as sculpted as ever, his blue eyes piercing, his slightly asymmetrical mouth in a wide, welcoming smile. His voice, which was what had caught Armie’s ear, was still rich and textured.

He hadn’t realized Henry was going to be at the party. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have come. As the man turned toward him, he reluctantly took another step back from Timmy, noticing that this time, Timmy didn’t follow.

Henry’s eyes caught his, and then he turned to someone, said something, and was approaching them, his long legs eating up the space in seconds.

“Armie,” Henry said with a smile. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Armie said. “You too. I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

Henry shrugged. “Neither did I, until a couple of hours ago,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

His gaze flickered to Timmy, and then back to Armie, the question clear.

“This is Timmy,” Armie said, waving his hand in Timmy’s direction. He wanted to step close to Timmy again, wrap his arm around Timmy’s waist. Introduce him as something other than just _Timmy_. But he couldn’t make himself do it. “Timmy, this is Henry.”

Henry offered his hand and Timmy shook it, nodding. He smiled, but Armie could tell it was fake. Why? Because of what Armie had told him? Was Timmy feeling defensive? The thought made his nerves settle slightly.

“Listen, can I steal you away for a minute?” Henry asked. “There’s just something I wanted to talk to you about, and since we’re both here…”

Armie hesitated. He didn’t want to talk to Henry. He had been having a good time, and seeing Henry, standing here, looking like himself and smelling like himself and smiling at Armie with that same smile...it felt like the ground was in motion, rolling and unsteady under his feet. Then again, maybe it would do him good. Talk to Henry, give him what he wanted. Then they could both stay out of each other’s way for the rest of the evening. There wasn’t much time left until midnight anyway.

“Sure,” Armie said. He glanced at Timmy, who bit his lip and looked away.

“Great,” Henry said. “Let’s...go somewhere. Nice to meet you, Timmy.”

“You too,” Timmy said. 

“I’ll be back,” Armie said, as Henry began to move through the crowd towards the back hall, clearly expecting Armie to follow. He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t go anywhere, this won’t take long.” Not if he had anything to do with it, anyway.

Timmy nodded, but looked uncertain.

“I promise,” Armie said. “Dance some more. Get another drink. Find Alicia and Zazie. I’ll find you in a few minutes.”

Armie followed Henry out onto the back porch, which was deserted. Henry closed the door behind him and then turned to face him, his expression serious. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. Armie waited, feeling the slight chill in the air. The temperature was dropping.

“How have you been?” Henry asked.

Armie shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “You settle into your new place okay?”

“Yeah,” Henry said. “It’s not...it’s okay.”

“Good.” Armie leaned up against the door, not wanting to move closer. He was handling this, he realized with surprise. After the initial shock that twisted his gut and set his pulse racing with anticipation, he was feeling...mostly all right. He searched his emotions, finding only nervousness and regret. No longing, which was interesting. He would have thought that having the person he was still in love with so close would make him want to reach out and touch, but...it didn’t.

“I miss you,” Henry said. His eyes had gone soft, and Armie could tell he was being genuine. “I keep thinking of things I want to tell you about, or share with you, and you’re not there.”

“That’s...normal,” Armie said. “I miss you, too.”

“I didn’t want this,” Henry said. “You know that. I didn’t want to break up, and I don’t...I wanted to ask you if there was any way you’d give me another chance.”

Armie’s heart stopped. When it started up again, with a loud _thunk-thunk_ , every muscle in his body tensed as if ready for flight.

“I want another chance.” Henry stepped towards him cautiously. “I was an idiot. You were right to kick me out, to break up with me, because I was an asshole. I took you for granted. I didn’t mean to...it doesn’t matter. The point is, I was wrong, and I want a chance to show you that.”

Armie pressed his back against the door, regretting his choice of position as Henry took another step forward. He swallowed. “What exactly is it that you want?” Armie asked. “You want to...what? Give it another try? I told you, I’m looking for—”

“I’ll marry you,” Henry said.

_“What?”_ If last time, Armie’s heart had skipped one beat, this time it skipped two. He felt suddenly lightheaded. _What the fuck was happening?_

“Look, you know I don’t need it. I’m fine being committed to each other without the whole state-sponsored contract thing. But you do. And...Armie, I love you. That hasn’t changed. So if you want to get married, let’s get married. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

Henry took a final step forward, until he was standing right in front of Armie. He reached out and grabbed Armie’s hand. Armie let him take it.

“You’d really do that? For me?” Armie’s heart was pounding now. This was what he had wanted. For Henry to commit to him, for it to be a relationship that they would do everything in their power to make work, and never give up. His mouth was dry, and the blood was rushing in his ears. His knees shook slightly

“Of course. I should have said yes the first time you asked.” Henry brought a hand up to cup Armie’s cheek. “I knew it was important to you. I’m sorry I fucked that up so badly. But I miss you. I want to be with you. It was never about wanting to be with anyone else.”

Armie stared at Henry, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. Henry was agreeing to marry him. He looked down at the man he had loved for so long, searching his eyes for sincerity. Henry smiled, then reached up and kissed him.

The feel of Henry’s lips against his was familiar, comforting. His body remembered this, the way they knew each other inside and out, and he found himself responding without thinking, parting his mouth to let Henry in. Henry slid his hand around the back of Armie’s neck and pulled him close, settling against him.

As they kissed, Armie tried to find the other emotions, the ones that had told him he was in love with Henry. He sought the warmth in his chest, the pull of desire in his gut, the frisson of excitement in his spine. He looked for the sense that his heart was expanding to encompass Henry’s.

Instead, something shifted inside him, and things suddenly felt all wrong. Henry’s lips were too dry, his tongue too thick, his hands too wide. Rather than feeling warm, he felt a cold thread of anxiety twisting its way through him until he had to pull away, gasping for breath.

“So what do you think?” Henry’s voice was tender, but Armie didn’t feel cared for. He couldn’t explain it, but…

“Hang on,” Armie said, placing his hand on Henry’s chest and pushing slightly. “What changed your mind? About getting married?”

Henry shrugged. “I want to be with you,” he said, with a grin. “And...what the hell, right? I mean, it’s just a piece of paper. There’s always divorce.”

He moved close again, but Armie pushed him away. “No,” he said.

“No?” Henry blinked at him, looking surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no,” Armie said. “I don’t want you to get married because _what the hell, there’s always divorce_. Jesus. You’re missing the whole point.”

Henry frowned. “What’s the whole point?” 

“That I’m looking for something that’s going to last,” Armie said. “I’m looking for a commitment, someone who’s going to fight for us even when things aren’t perfect. I don’t want someone who views everything as temporary, and divorce as a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“You wanted to get married, I said I’d marry you,” Henry said. “What the hell else could you possibly want?”

“For you to mean it,” Armie said. He turned to go back inside, but Henry put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“So, hang on a second,” he said. “If I hadn’t said that last thing, about divorce, would we be going back in there together?”

Armie thought about it for a moment. He thought about his time with Henry, the way he had felt for the last couple of months. Then he thought about the last twenty-four hours, and the fact that Timmy was inside, waiting for him. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I would have said no anyway.”

“Seriously?” Henry said. He dropped his hand and gaped at Armie. “Everyone said you were miserable. That you’d want me back, all I had to do was ask. What changed?”

Armie smiled. “I think I did,” he said. “I’m not...if we stayed together, we’d both be settling. I think I understand that, now. I don’t want you to settle, Henry. And I _definitely_ don’t want me to settle. I’m sorry.”

Henry nodded. “It’s okay. I...you’re right, I think. But I still miss you.”

“Maybe at some point we can be friends,” Armie said.

“Maybe,” Henry said. “Listen, if you ever need anything—”

“Yeah, you too,” Armie said. “You know where to find me.” He opened the door. “Coming in?” 

Henry shook his head. “You go. It’s almost midnight and I think I need a minute.”

Armie left Henry staring out into the night and returned to the party. While outside, the noises of the party had faded away, but now that he was back inside he was momentarily overwhelmed by the cacophony of voices. People were holding plastic champagne glasses, and he saw Leo and his roommate moving through the crowd pouring everyone their midnight drink.

He scanned the people, looking for Timmy, his nerves prickling. In the living room, someone had turned off the music and turned on the television to the broadcast from Times Square, shown on an hour delay so Texans could feel like they were getting their own celebration along with the eastern part of the country.

Timmy was nowhere to be seen.

He found Alicia and Zazie in the hallway that led to the bedrooms, looking cozy.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, touching Alicia’s arm to get her attention. “But have you seen Timmy?”

Alicia’s eyes widened. “He left,” she said. 

“He _what_?” For the third time in twenty minutes, Armie’s heart stopped.

She nodded. “He came through to get his jacket, and I asked what was up, and he said he was going home. I thought you knew.”

“No, I…when was that?”

“Like maybe a minute or two ago,” Zazie said. “It was when Leo came by with the champagne because he turned it down.”

Armie turned and strode back through the party to the front door. Maybe he’d catch Timmy. He would have had to have called an Uber or something, it wasn’t like he was going to walk home. If not...he’d call. Find out what was going on. Fix it.

He plowed through the people and threw open the front door. To his immense relief, Timmy was standing at the edge of the lawn, looking down the street, his phone in his hand.

“Timmy,” he called.

Timmy whipped around.

“What are you doing?” Armie asked. He bounded down the front steps and jogged across the lawn until he reached the kid. “What’s going on? Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t…” Timmy shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t want to be in the way.”

Armie frowned. “Why would you be in the way? What happened?”

Timmy dropped his gaze to where he was digging his toe into the gravel at the edge of the street. “Nothing. I mean...what happened with Henry?”

Armie hesitated. Timmy’s voice was small and thin, and he was chewing on his bottom lip. Did he think that Armie was back with Henry? Did that bother him? Beyond just not getting the second night of their two-night-stand?

“He told me he wanted to get back together. That he wanted to get married after all,” Armie said quietly.

Timmy looked up at him, and then his mouth crumpled slightly. He recovered quickly and smiled, a long, thin smile that was more of a grimace than anything else.

“I...that’s great,” he said. “You must be…I mean, I’m so happy for you.”

“Come on, Timmy,” Armie said. “Don’t...is that how you really feel about that?” He held his breath. He had made a decision, but he needed to know how Timmy felt before he barreled forward. The last thing he wanted was for Timmy to feel backed into a corner.

Timmy stared at the ground once more. He dragged the toe of his boot across the gravel and then back, nudging a rock along a few inches before kicking it aside. He didn’t look up when he spoke again.

“I know we’re just supposed to be doing this casual thing. This two-night stand, or one-night stand, or whatever. But...” He looked up, his eyes large and shining in the moonlight. “I like you Armie. A lot. Like, a _lot_. That wasn’t the plan but it happened.” He shrugged. “And I don’t even know, if he hadn’t been here or wasn’t an option, if you’d even be into me, but at least it would be possible. So I guess...I’m happy for you, I really am. But I’m also sad for me.”

Armie grinned. “I’m really glad you said that.”

Timmy blinked, his eyebrows drawing together. “Why?”

“Because I told Henry no.”

“What?” Timmy’s hands fell to his sides, and he went very still. "But you were...I saw you kissing. Out back."

" _Oh_. No, that wasn't--" Armie shook his head furiously. No wonder Timmy had fled. "That wasn't what you think. _He_ kissed _me_ , and as soon as he did I knew."

"Knew...knew what?" Timmy asked, his voice catching.

“That I didn’t want to get back together and I didn’t want to marry him.” Armie took a cautious step towards Timmy.

“But... _why_?”

Armie didn’t realize he could grin any wider than he already was, but it happened. He couldn’t form the words for a second. He wasn’t drunk, but he could have been, for the way the world faded away, and his vision focused in on the boy standing in front of him.

“Because I don’t want him,” Armie said, simply, because it really was simple, after all. “I want you.”

Armie closed the distance between them, took Timmy’s chin in his hand and tilted his head up.

“You do?” Timmy whispered.

“Yeah. You’re my first choice, Timmy.”

Armie lowered his head and their lips met. Timmy sighed and moved into him, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Armie snaked his arm around Timmy’s waist and pulled him close, and he felt Timmy’s arms wind around his neck, fingers sliding up into his hair.

He traced his tongue across the seam of Timmy’s lips and Timmy’s mouth fell open, letting him in and encouraging him with the slide of his own tongue. That warmth Armie had been searching for earlier, the way he felt like his entire spirit expanded to join with another’s, the sense that he was right where he belonged...he found it here, in Timmy’s arms.

It felt like fireworks were exploding around them, like the world was celebrating and cheering them on. As they parted for breath, Armie realized that wasn’t just a feeling.

It was midnight. The New Year. People were cheering, and there were actual fireworks overhead, the ones being launched over Town Lake. Armie threw his head back and laughed, and Timmy joined in. He tucked Timmy into his side and they looked up at the fireworks, watched the colors sparkle and fade.

As the last ones died away, Armie searched the sky and then pointed at a grouping of stars that formed an almost-pentagon with wings.

“See that?” he said, turning to speak into Timmy’s ear.

“What?” Timmy asked.

Armie let his lips brush against Timmy’s earlobe as he spoke. “Those stars up there, if you look, you’ll see what looks like a bird with wings. That’s Phoenix.”

“New beginnings,” Timmy said, shivering. “I think that’s my favorite, too. Maybe I should get that as my next tattoo. The stars, just like that. Will you do it for me?”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” Armie said, grinning. “Tattoos are permanent, you know.”

Timmy leaned against him and grinned back. “I’m okay with permanent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell for these guys so there may be future one-shots where we get to see more of them. I, for one, desperately want to see Timmy with more ink and some piercings, so...you never know.
> 
> I'm onlyastoryteller on Tumblr if you need to yell at me.


	7. End Credits (Bonus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I couldn’t let these two go just yet. I barely know what this is. I was thinking that if this were in film form, there would be a wacky end credits sequence. And I knew what the soundtrack was and could see it in my head so...
> 
> ...here, have some silliness. 
> 
> Note: This is not in technical screenplay format, just...go with it. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> 100% fiction.

_Soundtrack, in the background: “Don’t Even Know You” — Mini Mansions_

_Song begins as Armie and Timmy kiss again under the flickering glow of the New Year’s fireworks. Camera swings up to view them from above and then zooms out and swings up into the night sky. The fireworks fade away, leaving an array of constellations._

_Cut to Armie and Timmy, sitting side by side on a sofa as they are interviewed (a la the end of When Harry Met Sally). They are seated side by side, shoulders touching._

**TIMMY**

So three weeks after that he asked me to be his boyfriend. He was so cute about it, turning all pink...like that!

_Timmy turns to point at Armie, who is indeed flushing a dark pink._

**ARMIE**

Yeah, and this little shit looks at me with those stupid big eyes and stupid long lashes and says, “I thought I was that already.”

**TIMMY**

Well, I did! You had told me I was your first choice and I assumed that meant—

**ARMIE**

It made me feel terrible, like I had hurt your feelings by asking.

**TIMMY**

No, really? 

_Timmy leans into Armie and rests his chin on Armie’s shoulder._

**TIMMY (cont.)**

You’re so sensitive. I love that.

_Armie smiles fondly at Timmy, and kisses his nose._

**ARMIE**

(grinning)

He said yes.

_Song swells. Scene fades back to constellations, and the sky shifts like in a planetarium. Cut to sofa again._

**ARMIE**

For my twenty-fifth birthday, he took me on a cruise. I told him it was too much.

**TIMMY**

(Waving away the concern)

I was saving so much money by moving in with Armie instead of living on campus — oh, we moved in together that summer. He asked me to do that, too, but he wasn’t as nervous about it. He just said, “I don’t want you to go home. I want you to live here and for this to _be_ your home.”

**ARMIE**

(Shrugging)

I was nervous, but we had just fucked and I was feeling confident you didn’t want to go anywhere. But you almost didn’t remember it in the morning. 

**TIMMY**

I remembered. I was just pretending. Giving you an out in case you had asked in a sex haze without thinking and regretted it. 

_Armie turns to look at Timmy, eyes wide._

**ARMIE**

I’ve never regretted a single second of us. 

_Timmy visibly melts, then grabs Arnie’s face and kisses him hard. When he pulls away, Armie looks dazed._

**TIMMY**

(To camera)

The cruise was amazing. You should see him in nothing but swim trunks, all wet and dripping, tattoos rippling and piercings glittering in the sun, shaking water off his hair as he climbs out of the—

**ARMIE**

(Leaning over and clapping a hand over Timmy’s mouth)

The cruise was fun.

_Song swells. Fade back to constellations, sky spins again. Cut to sofa._

**ARMIE**

(With a mischievous smirk)

Ask him about his piercings. 

_Timmy flushes._

**ARMIE (cont.)**

Ask him. Ask him where they are. How he likes them. 

_Timmy flushes darker._

_Song swells. Fade back to constellations, sky spins again. Cut to sofa._

**TIMMY**

We got each other’s names. Tattooed. For our one-year anniversary. 

**ARMIE**

It was Timmy’s idea. 

**TIMMY**

(Proudly)

It _was_ my idea. It was a good idea. 

**ARMIE**

He’s addicted to ink. I have to slow him down on a daily basis.

**TIMMY**

(With his hand blocking his words from Armie, in a stage whisper to the camera)

Impossible. 

**ARMIE**

(Rolling his eyes)

As long as he lets me be the one to paint all over his skin, I’m happy. 

**TIMMY**

That’s because _you’re_ addicted to _me._

**ARMIE**

It’s because I love you. 

**TIMMY**

I love you, too. 

_They stare at each other with heart eyes as we fade back to the constellations._

_Song changes to “I’m In Love” — Mini Mansions and we see a Photo Montage on a background of shifting colors._

**SONG**

I think I might be having a heart attack

I get the feeling that I'll never come back

I'm in love

I'm in L-O-V-E, I'm in love with you

_Photo sequence, rapid succession, set inside Leo’s party that night after midnight:_

  * __Armie and Timmy face each other, heads together, grinning.__


  * _Armie and Timmy, heads turned toward the camera, surprised._


  * _Armie and Timmy, laughing, Armie’s hand out to block the camera_


  * _Armie and Timmy, kissing_



**SONG**

You get the feeling that your heart's gonna pop

No need for CPR or to call the cops

I'm in love

I'm in L-O-V-E, I'm in love with you

_Photo: Timmy on Armie’s bike, hands on the handlebars. His mouth is open as if he’s laughing and talking at the same time._

_Photo: Armie and Timmy on the bike. Timmy’s arms are wrapped around Armie’s waist. Armie’s head is turned and they’re kissing._

**SONG**

And when the nights get long and there's nothing to do

I get to roll on over and hold on to you

I'm in love

'Cause when I feel alone and there's no one but you

I don't need nothing more but to lay next to you

I'm in love

_Photo: Selfie of Armie and Timmy in bed, sitting up against the headboard. Armie’s arm is slung over Timmy’s shoulder and Timmy is snuggled against him. They have sex hair._

**SONG**

I get a feeling like I'm fucked in the head

No need for therapy or bottles of meds

I'm in love

I'm in L-O-V-E, I'm in love with you

You get the feeling running down to your toes

It's sweeter than what you might blow up your nose

I'm in love

I'm in L-O-V-E, I'm in love with you

_Photo set, in rapid succession:_

  * __Armie and Timmy wearing swim trunks, posing with tubes next to a river; Timmy has visible additional tattoos__


  * _Armie in a tube in the water, beer in hand_


  * _Timmy in a tube in the water, beer in hand_


  * _Armie laying back with his eyes closed, Timmy’s hand reaching for his tube_


  * _Armie capsizing_


  * _Armie coming towards Timmy through the water, arms outstretched, laughing_



**SONG**

And when the nights get long and there's nothing to do

I get to roll on over and hold on to you

I'm in love

'Cause when I feel alone and there's no one but you

I don't need nothing more but to lay next to you

I'm in love

All these salty tears

I've waited on for so many years

And all my fears went away

I think I know

I think I know

I think I know, know, know, know, know

Ow!

_Photo: Timmy stretched out, shirtless, on an incline table, eyeing a hand with a needle. Armie sits beside him, holding his hand._

_Photo: Timmy proudly displaying his nipple piercings, barbells with little green beads on the ends instead of silver._

**SONG**

I like the feeling when there's dope in my veins

But these emotions they can drive me insane

I'm in love

I'm in L-O-V-E, I'm in love with you

And when the nights get long and there's nothing to do

I get to roll on over and hold on to you (I'm in love)

_Photo set, in rapid succession: Armie and Timmy sitting on a sofa in the middle of a party. Photo is taken from a distance, and they clearly don’t know they are being photographed._

  * __Armie and Timmy appear deep in discussion__


  * _Timmy is animated, hands in the air_


  * _Armie is tickling Timmy, and he is doubled over laughing_


  * _Armie and Timmy are feeding each other from plates heaped with food_


  * _Armie and Timmy, kissing_



_Photo set, in rapid succession: Kiss shots._

  * __In the apartment, selfie__


  * _On the beach_


  * _At a fancy dinner table_


  * _At the tattoo shop_


  * _In front of an arch, a justice of the peace, surrounded by their friends._



_Fade to black._


End file.
